


Sins of the Father

by So_Runs_the_World_Away



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Reginald Hargreeves, Angst, BAMF Klaus Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves Lives, Ben Hargreeves is a Good Brother, Ben Hargreeves' Tentacles | Bentacles, Childhood Trauma, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Ghost Mentor, Ghosts, Hurt Klaus Hargreeves, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Klaus Hargreeves Deserves Better, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves Needs Help, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, Manipulative Reginald Hargreeves, Mausoleum, Number Five | The Boy Is A Good Brother, Powerful Klaus Hargreeves, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Sober Klaus Hargreeves, Telekinetic Klaus Hargreeves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:40:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26715370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/So_Runs_the_World_Away/pseuds/So_Runs_the_World_Away
Summary: There was a distinctly annoyed and horribly familiar huff behind him. "What a ridiculous waste of time. It is a Friday night, you should be honing your powers, Number Four."And. Klaus. Froze.He felt his shoulders bunch up, all his muscles tensing at the sound of his voice. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that he imagined it. But no."I am well-aware that you can hear me, Number Four. Or is this some extension of your irrational fear of the dead? I would've expected you to have moved past that by now, but you always were the weakest of your siblings."---In which Reginald Hargreeves comes back as a ghost and Klaus is left to deal with the fallout.
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves & Everyone, Klaus Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 128
Kudos: 1279





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've seen a lot of fics where Klaus gets a manipulative ghost mentor, but not many with a ghost Reginald Hargreeves. So, i wrote my own. 
> 
> This has three parts, all of them are written and will be published soon. Enjoy!

It happened on a Friday night.

Klaus was carefully doing Vanya’s hair (grudgingly assisted by Ben) while Vanya and Allison talked about their weeks.

Vanya was more relaxed than Klaus had ever seen her. She just seemed more in touch with her emotions nowadays, and more... grounded? If Klaus had considered her somewhat distant and quiet before, now he admired her as vibrant and strong, in a reserved sort of way.

He’d never been prouder.

And Allison was different too. She was just genuinely trying harder. Allison spent most of her life lying to herself and was a pretty shitty sister for a majority of the time (though she’d also let him borrow her make-up and skirts, which had been generous). She acknowledged that and informed them in no uncertain terms to call her out if she pulled the same bullshit, and turned herself around.

Allison wanted to be a good sibling. Klaus could respect that. (There was a lot of it going around.)

And Ben... He was alive. He was alive and here and adjusting but fucking alive and that was all that mattered.

“So, wanna talk about boys?” Klaus asked mischievously, leaning forward and propping his head on Vanya’s shoulder.

Allison laughed and Vanya giggled under his weight. So, maybe they were a little bit tipsy. They _deserved_ it after the last few months. Personally, Klaus thought he did too, but Ben had threatened to break his mascaras if he so much as looked at a bottle, so that was that.

(Klaus was definitely tempted. The woman screaming in the corner was really trying his patience, as were the small number of Commission ghosts that had been following them since Ben had shish-kebabbed their asses.)

Vanya shook her head, still giggling.

Klaus draped himself across her back, sighing dramatically in disappointment. “But Vanny, you haven’t even heard about Dave yet.” He waggled his eyebrows. “ _Especially_ what we got up to in Saigon.”

“Gross,” Allison protested, and Ben flicked him in the ear. 

“Fine, fine,” Klaus raised his hands in acquiescence, leaning back into the couch. “No talking boys then. I see how it is.”

Vanya shot him an equally mischievous smirk and Klaus had only a moment to wonder what that was for. “I’d actually prefer to talk girls right now.”

Klaus gasped, immediately surging forward to envelope Vanya in a hug. “Oh my god, you precious little Sappho, _fuck yes_ let’s talk girls. Who? Is it someone from your orchestra? What are they like? I have so much wisdom to pass on, my young queer apprentice!”

Vanya laughed, pushing him gently off her.

“We support you,” Allison agreed warmly, placing a hand on Vanya’s arm.

“Maybe now I don’t have to listen to Klaus complaining about how painfully straight this family is,” Ben commented idly, offering Vanya a small smile.

“Shut up, Ben,” Klaus shot back. “You know it’s true.”

And it was perfect. They were all happy and laughing and Klaus wanted to take a picture of this moment because _fuck you pops_ , they were doing alright despite their messed up childhood.

And maybe that very thought was what brought it on.

“Preposterous.” There was a distinctly annoyed and horribly familiar huff behind him. “What a ridiculous waste of time. It is a Friday night, you should be honing your powers, Number Four.”

And. Klaus. Froze.

He felt his shoulders bunch up, all his muscles tensing at the sound of his voice. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that he imagined it. But no.

“I am well-aware that you can hear me, Number Four. Or is this some extension of your irrational fear of the dead? I would’ve expected you to have moved past that by now, but you always were the weakest of your siblings.”

“Klaus?” Vanya questioned, and Klaus opened his eyes to her carefree smile slowly slipping from her face. “Hey, are you alright?”

Ben was suddenly there, gently easing Vanya to the side. “Hey, Klaus? You with me? We’re in 2019, the Academy. You’re with me, Vanya and Allison. The war is over.”

Klaus forced himself to exhale, slowly relaxing his muscles as much as possible. “Wha-?”

Ben had been amazing in helping him with his flashbacks. What the Vietnam War hadn’t had, was Ben. Ben, who had been a staple in his life since they were 17, and was as permanent as any other tether to ground himself to.

This wasn’t a flashback though. (Klaus wasn’t going to tell him that.)

He smiled weakly. “I think that’s about it for me today, girls, Benny-boy. You’ll have to survive without me for the rest of the night.”

Allison frowned worriedly at him. “I hope you feel better soon, Klaus. Sweet dreams.”

He swiftly dropped a kiss on Vanya’s forehead before standing and stretching. He waved Ben back down when he made to stand too. “Night night, _meine familie_. Vanya, I expect the full deets on this girl tomorrow.”

He stumbled out of the room, holding up his _GOODBYE_ palm and ignoring Ben’s concerned looks and Vanya’s worried eyes. He dodged around a ghost and tried to disregard the heavy footsteps following him up the stairs.

He swung his bedroom door shut behind him, immediately collapsing onto his bed. Klaus groaned at the sound of someone clearing their throat haughtily and rolled over to face the room.

“ _What_ , pops?”

Sir Reginald Hargreeves hadn’t changed a bit since his death. He still wore that stupid monocle and glared down at him with the same distaste as if Klaus were something he’d found on the bottom of his shoe. He didn’t even have the indecency to be covered in blood or missing a few limbs like the majority of Klaus’ ghosts. He supposed a diagnosed heart attack would do that.

“I would’ve expected you to summon me shortly after your visit before the apocalypse,” Reginald remarked distastefully. “Then again, I suppose you were busy shooting up in an alleyway somewhere.”

Klaus laughed lowly. “My visit? You mean when I died and went to the afterlife? No, I was actually quite busy doing literally anything else than summoning you.”

(Klaus wondered idly if he’d gone to hell. He’d never been a religious man, but meeting little girl God had perhaps persuaded him to reconsider. If it was between heaven and hell, Klaus knew it was the latter – after all, both he and Reginald had ended up there.)

Reginald sniffed. “Yes. I suppose you would believe that your junkie habits take precedence to the apocalypse.”

“Fuck you, pops,” Klaus shot back. “I wasn’t the genius who caused the apocalypse by sticking a four-year-old on suppressants for a few temper tantrums.”

“Number 7 was incapable of controlling her powers, and remained a danger to herself and all those around her!”

“She was _FOUR_ , YOU _BASTARD_!”

Klaus was standing now, finger nearly jabbing into Reginald’s chest. Because like _hell_ was he going to listen to this _asshole_ justify his actions. Listen to him justify _hurting_ his baby sister. (Klaus didn’t even notice that his hands were glowing blue.)

Before Klaus could react, Reginald lifted his hand and slapped him, a heavy blow that sent him tumbling to the ground.

Klaus stayed there, clutching his cheek, breathing heavily, weighed down more by the shock than the pain. Now he saw the faint, quickly fading blue glow of his fingertips. He managed to look up at his father.

Reginald studied his hand with a clinical curiosity, waving it through a lamp on Klaus’ bedside table. “Momentary corporality during your first training session. Less than five seconds. Unacceptable.”

Klaus clambered to his feet, slightly warier, and a more measured distance from his father. “Fuck you, daddy dearest, you’re not training me. I’m thirty, and you don’t get to dictate my life anymore.”

Reginald finally met his eyes, derision evident. “I see. You would rather be a burden on your siblings, relying on them to save you at their own risk.”

Klaus scoffed, turning away to climb back onto his bed. They weren’t in any danger, and therefore he wouldn’t need to rely on his siblings to save him. But he didn’t owe this asshole an explanation.

“How predictably selfish, Number Four.”

Klaus pulled on his headphones and turned up his music, happy to drown out the world until he fell asleep.

* * *

When Klaus woke the next morning, his room was blissfully empty, but for the old lady mumbling frantically in the corner, in a language Klaus didn’t recognise.

He stumbled downstairs to greet Five, who was on what was likely not his first cup of coffee for the day, muttering to himself and scribbling down equations in a notebook (a gift from Vanya). The adorable little psycho was dressed in the dark blue pyjamas Allison had bought him and had a bad case of bed head.

(Along with him was a rather large collection of ghosts, screaming for Five’s death, for Klaus to avenge their murders and slit his throat, shoot him in the head, stab him in the heart, just like he’d done to them.)

Klaus clumsily patted Five’s head as he passed, earning a violent swat, and making a beeline for the coffee pot. He poured himself a mug, heaping in sugar and gulping half of it down with a wince.

God, the strength of the coffee Five brewed was enough to keep a small elephant awake for days.

Klaus poured the rest of the pot down the sink (because wastage was a luxury gifted by their father’s death) and began to start a new batch. Since he’d given up all the fun of drugs, caffeine had been his saviour. The more expensive brands of coffee, which he’d never been able to afford before, became a not-so-guilty pleasure (because Klaus never wasted any time feeling guilty over his pleasures), and Klaus knew most members of the family had a taste for them too.

The pot finished boiling just as Diego entered the kitchen. Klaus danced over to pour Five a new cup of coffee. With the boy barely paying attention, he snuck some hazelnut syrup into the mug before Five took a sip. The boy gave a distracted thanks, but smiled at the flavour, which invoked a full beam from Klaus.

“Morning Diego!” Klaus offered cheerfully, eyes wandering to observe the bloody crowd that always followed his brother. “And company. Coffee?”

Diego shook his head. “You know that shit isn’t good for you, Klaus.”

Klaus laughed. “Well, you guys won’t let me find something a little more, ah, _fun_. So, here’s to things that are bad for you!”

Even as Diego regarded him, unamused, Five raised his mug toward Klaus in a toast without even looking up, which Klaus counted as a win.

“What happened to your face?” Diego questioned abruptly. “ Someone hit you?”

Klaus frowned in confusion as Five’s head finally shot up, staring down Klaus with intimidating intensity. He couldn’t remember getting into any fights recently where he’d gotten hit. And he hadn’t noticed a bruise before.

In a flash of blue light, Five was sitting on the table in front of him, hand reaching out to tilt his head by the jaw. Klaus attempted to swat him away but received a sharp jab for his troubles.

“Hey, cool it, grabby,” Klaus hissed.

Five pressed on his cheek with his thumb and Klaus hissed again. Yep, that was definitely a bruise. His mind flashed back to the incident last night, with a rather trigger-happy and disapproving father, and he carefully removed Five’s hands from his person.

“All good, Fivey, I just maybe sort of definitely did _not_ miss my bed last night. Bedside tables are a _bitch_.”

Five narrowed his eyes at him in a way that would be intimidating if it wasn’t a thirteen-year-old doing it, but Diego let out a short laugh and ruffled his hair.

“Only you, Klaus.”

Five huffed and teleported back to his seat. Klaus had a moment of brief peace to sip at his coffee before someone cleared their throat from the doorway.

“You know caffeine is strictly forbidden in this house, Number Four.”

“Oh goody.” Klaus tipped his mug in the direction of Reginald. “You’re back.”

Reginald scowled at him, before directing his attention to the rest of the ghosts in the room, screaming and gurgling and calling for his siblings’ deaths.

“Thirty years and you have failed to master how to block out this incessant babble. Your incompetence knows no bounds.”

Klaus laughed into his coffee. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Diego snapped his fingers and Klaus’ eyes shot over to him. His brother smiled at him, a hint of concern in his eyes. “Hey. Ghost around?”

Klaus blinked slowly, then nodded. “Yeah, what can I say? Some people just can’t accept that they’re fucking _DEAD_!” He directed the last part at Reginald, who only scowled more deeply.

Diego nodded idly. “Yeah. Have you gotten any progress on that front? With your powers?”

Klaus pulled a face. “Nope. But Benji-boy’s back, so what does it matter?”

That had been the only practical use for his powers. That night at Icarus Theatre, Ben had been able to take out most of the Commission agents after them himself. No offence to the grisly crowd that usually followed Klaus around, but he didn’t think any of them had it in them to take out anyone.

Diego frowned but clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll be in the gym if you guys need me.”

Had Diego been… upset? True, Klaus hadn’t made any effort to work on his powers, but he didn’t know his siblings were expecting him to. His powers had been useless for thirty years, and he figured they’d continue to be for the rest of his life.

“See? Even your siblings are disappointed with your progress. You’re a burden on them.”

“Shut _up,_ “ Klaus snapped, despite his mind already latching onto those words. Reginald’s words were always cruel and dipped in poison, but even his father couldn’t fabricate the frustration on Diego’s face.

Five shot him a curious look but became distracted as the rest of their siblings began to trickle in.

* * *

Here’s the thing.

The Hargreeves family was finally beginning to heal.

It had taken them some thirty years and two bouts of time travel, but they were finally making progress.

Living together, not under the thumb of their evil father, had brought them closer. Luther, Klaus and Five, of course, had nowhere else to go. Allison was able to split her time between here and LA pretty effectively, with the luxury allowed by wealth. Speaking of which, she’d temporarily taken over paying for the rent of both Vanya and Diego’s homes for a while, just while they weren’t living there. (It had brought on a long and heated argument, but Klaus liked its resolution where he got to live with all his siblings.)

Luther was beginning to understand that what Reginald had done was abuse. Diego, who despite all his claims, had some deeply buried daddy issues, was beginning to understand his own worth beyond what he’d been moulded to be (and then remoulded himself to be, in a complete contrast). Five was thawing at the edges, starting to let them in. Allison was learning to become a better sister. Vanya was redefining her very self (and becoming an absolute badass, if Klaus could say so himself). And Ben was fucking alive and able to appreciate the world of the living again.

And all of it was made possible by the death of one Reginald Hargreeves.

So, Klaus couldn’t be the one to ruin it. They’d made leaps of progress, and he knew that just one interaction with the dearest father would tear it all down.

Maybe it was bad, keeping it a secret. Maybe it was dishonest. Maybe it was selfish and made him a shitty person to keep this from them. But Klaus had never claimed otherwise. He’d do this one small thing for their benefit, and if they hated him for it, so be it.

* * *

Klaus awoke suddenly in the night. His room was flooded with ghosts.

_Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus._

“Who the _hell_ are you guys?” 

He’d grown vaguely familiar with his siblings’ ghosts, but he’d never seen any of these people before. Most of them were ordinary-looking enough, but for the especially bloody wounds they sported. One looked like he’d been run over several times and another was entirely gutted.

_Help us, Klaus. You have to help. She killed me. She killed my whole family. You need to avenge us._

“They killed us.” One of them smiled horrifically. “Now they’re going to kill you.”

“Shit!” The realisation struck Klaus and he scrambled out of bed.

Gently opening his door, he hurried to peer over the banister of the stairs. Beams from torches crept forward underneath him.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he breathed.

He dashed to Diego’s room, which was closest, letting himself in and rushing over to the bed. He shook Diego roughly and his brother jerked awake. His eyes settled on Klaus, but Klaus slammed a hand over his mouth before he could yell.

“People downstairs,” he hissed. “They’re here to kill us.”

Diego’s eyes widened before he nodded, and Klaus retracted his hand. Diego sat up, reaching for the assortment of knives on his bedside table as Klaus darted out of his room.

He hesitated for a moment before going to Five’s room first. Maybe it would piss Luther off, but Five had the subtlety that he lacked and they needed.

The second he touched Five, a bruising grip was encircling his wrist and a knife was at his throat. Dark eyes pierced into him from the confines of a blanket.

“Just me, buddy,” Klaus whispered. “But people are breaking in downstairs. Lots of them with lots of ghosts.”

The knife was retracted and Five sat up quickly. “The Commission.”

“Probably. I’m going to wake the others.”

Five grabbed his wrist again. “You, Ben and Vanya, don’t come downstairs. Vanya’s still learning to use her powers, and in the house, neither her or Ben are suited to using their powers. Could cause more harm than good.”

“I can help,” Klaus disagreed.

“Your powers are unstable at best,” Five snapped, snatching up various weapons from around the room. “You can’t fight. I don’t have time to argue this, Klaus. Go hide with Vanya and Ben.”

“I’m just useless,” Klaus filled in the blank, hurt flooding him. “Got it. Thanks.”

He exited Five’s room without another word. Allison, Luther and Diego were all up and quietly talking. Klaus bypassed them and slid into the sixth room, quickly and quietly waking Ben, before the two of them entered Vanya’s room.

He touched her arm gently. “Hey, sis. Wakey wakey.”

Vanya’s eyes shot open, panicked, before they landed on him.

“Hey Vanny,” Klaus clambered onto the bed. “People are breaking in downstairs.”

Ben slapped him on the arm, scrambling onto the bed beside him. “Luther, Five, Diego and Allison have it covered. Five said our powers aren’t suitable for such close-range.”

Inaccurate. Five said _Vanya and Ben’s_ powers weren’t suitable for close-range. Klaus’ powers weren’t suitable (or usable) in any range. But Klaus offered Ben a smile, knowing his brother’s relief at being left out of the fight.

Vanya carefully pushed herself up in bed. “Do we know who they are?”

“Five thinks it’s Commission,” Klaus offered. “I just know they’ve got a lot of ghosts.”

“They loud?” Ben asked hesitantly, all too familiar with the screams of the dead.

Klaus exhaled shakily. “Oh, always. You know how it is.”

_Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus._

He didn’t make the mistake of looking up at them. He just had to tough it out until his siblings took care of the agents downstairs. Hopefully then, most of the ghosts would choose to move on.

Vanya edged closer to him, leaning into his side, and Klaus threw an arm over her shoulders. “Hey, Vanny.”

The first of the gunshots sounded downstairs and Klaus flinched, his mind immediately filling with explosions and helicopters, but a warm weight pressed closer under his arm, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t in Vietnam.

Vanya was trembling, eyes tightly shut, and Klaus was reminded that for the absolute badass his little sister was, she’d never been in combat before (the incident at Icarus Theatre discounted).

Carefully, he picked up Vanya and deposited her on his other side, between himself and Ben. Ben immediately shuffled closer, wrapping his own arm around Vanya.

“It’s alright, Van,” Ben whispered. “The first night after Five came back, I saw him take out a dozen Commission agents by himself in a doughnut shop with only a butter knife and their own weapons. Those guys downstairs don’t stand a chance.”

Vanya curled more into Ben before a hand tugged Klaus’ shirt closer. Klaus felt affection pool in his chest as he inched closer to Vanya. It felt... nice. To be wanted.

“When I woke him up, the little bastard had a knife to my throat before I could react,” he said conversationally. “I feel like we should discuss that with him, but also if I’d been a Commission agent, that would’ve been justifiable.”

Vanya laughed and Klaus took it as a win.

A voice cut over the noise from the rest of the ghosts. “Interesting. So you cower upstairs with Number 7 and Number 6 while your siblings risk their lives for you downstairs.”

“Shut up,” Klaus muttered. “Not close-quarters.”

“Number 6 and Number 7’s powers are not suitable for close-quarters fighting,” Reginald agreed. “But what is your excuse?”

“How about all-round general uselessness?” Klaus hissed at him. “Piss off.”

“So, you are willing to admit that in such a situation, you are entirely useless? Incapable of helping your siblings?”

“Shut _up_!” Klaus shouted at him. 

A hand was tugging at his sleeve, and he looked down to see Ben and Vanya looking at him in concern. 

“You okay, Klaus?” 

Before Klaus could answer, the sound of heavy footsteps reached them from outside the room. Shit, they probably heard him yelling. Sometimes Klaus forgot that Reginald didn’t need to soundproof his siblings’ rooms too. Klaus slapped a hand across his own mouth but it was too late. 

The door slammed open and Vanya screamed, their attacker, as well as several other ornaments and objects flying away from them and slamming into the wall. The Commission agent didn’t move again.

 _"Damn_ , Vanya,” Ben remarked appreciatively.

“Number Seven’s control has not measurably improved either,” Reginald observed. “Though I suppose, at least she is of some worth in a confrontation.”

 _That’s it_. Klaus slid off the bed, snatching their assailant’s gun from the ground and quickly scrutinising the model.

“Klaus?” Vanya questioned.

“Stay with Ben,” Klaus instructed. “You two protect each other. I’m going to go cause a little mayhem.”

Ben grasped his arm before he could leave. His brother met his eyes. “You sure?”

They both knew how much Klaus hated killing – just a few more ghosts to add to his fan club. But that had been when they were kids. The Vietnam War had taught Klaus to manage.

“I’m sure.”

He didn’t need powers to kick some ass. He’d show his bastard of a father that.

Klaus edged his way out of the room, firmly closing the door behind him, and made his way to the banister. His siblings were doing well, all things considered. As Klaus watched, Luther sent two goons flying while Diego fought two others hand to hand. Five and Allison were nowhere to be seen, but Klaus could hear the sounds of fighting elsewhere in the house.

“Well?” Reginald murmured from behind him. “Will you do nothing while your siblings fight?”

Unfortunately, Diego was the first to spot him, just as he took down his current two opponents. His eyes widened in shock. “Klaus? What the hell?! Get back upstairs!”

Klaus rolled his eyes and hefted his gun onto his shoulder, taking down a woman sneaking up on Diego without hesitation. Carefully taking aim, he precisely mowed down the three intruders approaching Luther with a single bullet to the head each.

Luther paused for only a moment, blatant confusion as he noticed Klaus before he was forced to pay attention again as another attacker tried to exploit his lapse in focus. Klaus shot Diego a grin and tried to ignore the growing number of ghosts in the room.

_Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus._

Perhaps Klaus’ good streak was over, because the ghosts converged on him as he raised his rifle again. Klaus grimaced, trying to see through the masses enclosing him. He couldn’t risk firing a shot with Luther and Diego in the room.

 _Fuck, this was a bad idea._ Klaus began to panic, breathing in rapidly, horribly aware that he was in the middle of an active fight and _couldn’t fucking see three feet in front of him_.

_Help us, Klaus. Why won’t you help us? You have to avenge us, Klaus. AVENGE US._

_Shit._ Focus.

Klaus concentrated as hard as he could, squeezing his eyes shut and willing the ghosts to disappear, _go away, please fucking go away._ Relief flooded him when he opened his eyes to a blue glow engulfing his hands, but suddenly hands were grabbing him and the ghosts were clawing at him and screaming louder than ever, and Klaus might’ve been screaming with them.

The glow faded within seconds, and Klaus barely had time to sob in relief before he was being shoved to the floor, someone yelling “ _NO!”_

Maybe it was the desperation or the sheer dread, but suddenly the ghosts retreated, forced back by something. And Klaus could see. He could see perfectly as Five, who was standing over him, clasped a hand to his side, stumbling.

“Shit,” his little brother muttered.

Luther punched their last attacker into a wall and Klaus scrambled to his feet to aid Five.

“You idiot,” Five grumbled, reluctantly leaning on Klaus for support. “I thought I told you to stay upstairs.”

“I’m sorry,” Klaus rushed out. “I’m so fucking sorry, Five. Jesus.”

“Here.” Luther picked up Five. “I’ll take him to Mum.”

Klaus stumbled at the loss of Five, watching desperately as Luther carried him in the direction of the infirmary. Klaus staggered back to collapse onto the nearby stairs. He buried his head in his hands. “Fuck.”

“Klaus, what the _hell_ was that?!” Diego demanded. “Why didn’t you stay upstairs?”

Klaus looked up plaintively. “I thought I could help,” he mumbled. “I fought in the Vietnam War. I can shoot a gun. I thought I’d be fine.”

And he _had_ been fine. Until the ghosts had closed around him.

Diego sighed, all anger seeming to seep out of him. “And what happened then?”

Klaus’ voice was smaller than ever. “The ghosts. I couldn’t see… and when I tried to banish them… I accidentally manifested them.”

“Jesus, Klaus,” Allison breathed, and Klaus could hear all the disappointment and anger and irritation and disbelief somehow conveyed by those two words.

Allison pressed a hand to her face briefly, before steeling herself to sit beside Klaus. “Klaus, sweetie, I think it’s best if you stay out of any fights in the future. At least until you’ve got your powers under control.”

Klaus swiped angrily at his eyes, wishing he’d stop freaking crying. He’d really fucked up this time. He didn’t need Reginald to tell him.

“Klaus, you could’ve gotten hurt,” Diego murmured, almost pleadingly.

But Klaus hadn’t. Five did.

Klaus got unsteadily to his feet and staggered in the direction of the infirmary. He hesitated at the door, at the sight of his little brother lying on one of the beds, with Luther and his mother standing over him.

“Is he- is he gonna be alright?”

Mom turned to smile brightly at him. “Of course, dear. He just needs some rest.”

“Oh thank god.” Klaus sank into a chair, burying his head in his hands. 

Large boots stopped in front of him. “Klaus?”

“Yeah, big guy?”

“You can’t do that again,” Luther stated firmly. “You can’t join the fight. You could get hurt, and we don’t need to be worrying about you during a fight. Five… Five got hurt protecting you.”

“I got him hurt,” Klaus filled in the blanks when Luther trailed off, his heart sinking. “I know. I’m sorry, Luther.”

“You didn’t mean to,” Luther reiterated. “But in the future… you can’t do this again, Klaus. We got lucky this time.”

“Got it.”

Luther shuffled awkwardly for another moment before heading out of the infirmary. Klaus hesitated before dragging his chair closer to Five.

 _Jesus fucking Christ_. Klaus breathed out shakily. He’d really managed to fuck it up this time. He’d gotten his brother hurt with his _uselessness._

“Hey.”

Klaus’ head shot up to find Five staring at him, eyes half-lidded and voice sleepy in the way that meant Mom had him on the good stuff.

“S’okay, Klaus,” Five reassured him, slurred words guaranteeing Klaus his brother wouldn’t remember this conversation tomorrow. “I don’t regret it, you know? I’d do it again with- without…”

Five’s voice trailed off as he slumped into a drugged sleep.

Klaus smiled shakily, reaching out to push Five’s hair out of his face. Of course his little brother forgave him, despite the fact that he was a burden and a liability and could’ve gotten him killed. And he’d do it again, regardless. He’d put himself in harm’s way to protect Klaus.

Maybe that was all he’d ever be to his siblings. They all had these amazing _useful_ powers and skills and each of them could turn the tide in a fight. But Klaus? He was their liability. He’d put them in danger and get them hurt, just like he’d done to Five.

(Klaus felt something inside him break, eyes drifting to the bandage wrapped around Five’s side – covering the injury _he’d_ put there. ~~He didn’t want to be a burden~~.)

Klaus came to a decision.

Klaus inhaled and exhaled unevenly before steeling himself, snatching his hand back to turn and face the spirit who’d followed him into the room silently.

“Teach me to control my powers,” Klaus demanded.

The slightest twitch of the lips was Sir Reginald Hargreeves’ only indication of satisfaction as his eyes ran over Klaus. After all this time, his father still looked at him in the same way as when they were children – almost as if he was analysing how best to deconstruct him, piece by piece.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vanya getting a girlfriend was honestly my only wish for season 2. Like, I couldn’t imagine anything more powerful than Vanya in a relationship with a woman. 
> 
> Next chapter is much more angsty and will be up in four days.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, this chapter is pretty angsty. Warnings for emotional abuse, physical abuse and depression. Reginald Hargreeves is an absolute asshole.

They started that very morning. 

After waking a few hours later, Klaus fended off his father's ghost for just long enough to make and deliver two coffees to a stirring Five in the infirmary - one black coffee that would be gulped down in seconds, and the other a sweeter concoction with the hazelnut syrup that Five denied enjoying but Klaus knew he liked. (It was the least Klaus could do, considering he'd been the one to put Five there.)

Klaus himself only stole a piece of toast before disappearing to his own room, not wanting to face his siblings that morning. He wasn't sure he could deal with their disappointment so early in the day. 

"We shall begin by honing your ability to make ghosts corporeal," Reginald stated. "As you wish to be of some worth to your siblings in a fight, this power will have the most valuable immediate purpose.” 

Klaus nodded along, paying close attention (which he would've considered nothing short of a miracle only days ago). 

"Soon, we shall work on developing other aspects of your power, but we will start with the manifestation of ghosts. I want you to conjure me and keep me corporeal for as long as you can." 

Klaus nodded again. 

"Start the stopwatch and begin.”

Klaus started the stopwatch he’d stolen from Reginald’s office before hesitating. "But how do I manifest you?" 

"How do I manifest you, _sir_?" Reginald corrected. (Klaus rolled his eyes.) "I would've assumed that between you manifesting Number Six at the Icarus Theatre and you manifesting me when I first arrived, you had some idea of how to use your powers. As always, you disappoint me, Number Four." 

Klaus glared at him. "Sorry, but after Ben came back, I didn't exactly have any reason to go around conjuring ghosts. You aren't the prettiest bunch." 

Reginald ignored his barb, deliberating. "It is probable, that much like your siblings' powers, yours are tied to your emotions. Can you recall what you were feeling the last time you manifested a ghost?" 

Klaus frowned and tried to think. His memories of the apocalypse were a haze at best. That entire week was tainted by drugs, then Dave, then withdrawal, then dying, then almost dying, and Klaus couldn't remember what the hell he'd been thinking that night in Icarus Theatre. So, instead, he directed his thoughts to more recent times. 

When Reginald had manifested... he'd been talking about Vanya. About putting her on her medication because she was dangerous. And Klaus had been _furious_ at her treatment. And then Reginald had hit him. 

Klaus tried to grasp that anger again. He tried to picture that conversation and his previous ire, and while he did hate his father a little more, nothing happened. No glowing blue hands or manifestation of ghosts.

Anger didn’t come naturally to Klaus. While their years under Reginald’s thumb had caused his siblings to harden, spawning bitterness and ire, Klaus spent his time numbing himself, distancing himself from everything, alive or dead. Even sober and dealing with hoards of ghosts and his dysfunctional siblings, Klaus rarely felt himself get angry, and when it did happen, it was fleeting. Nothing substantial enough to build upon to stimulate his powers. 

So, last, Klaus thought of just the previous night, when the Commission had broken into the Academy. He'd been confident at first. A little irritated, but determined to prove himself. And then the ghosts had closed in on him. 

_Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus._

That had been it. They'd enclosed him and suddenly he was that helpless kid trapped in the mausoleum again, unable to defend himself from the raging ghosts. And on top of it was the knowledge that he was in the middle of the fight and he wasn't protecting his siblings. In fact, he was putting them in more danger, and he was so fucking terrified that he'd get them hurt. And he did. Five got hurt protecting him. ~~And Klaus was scared his family would never forgive him. He didn't think he could blame them if they didn't.~~

When Klaus opened his eyes, Reginald was glowing blue. He reached out to lift one of the magazines on Klaus' dresser, and Klaus exhaled shakily, feeling his energy slowly draining. He held out as long as he could before slumping, Reginald snuffed out of the corporeal world and the magazine dropping back onto his dresser. 

"Three minutes and thirty-two seconds before being able to manifest me," Reginald noted glancing at the still-going stopwatch. "Corporal for forty-three seconds." 

His eyes landed on Klaus, who was still shaking and already exhausted. "Again." 

* * *

Hours later, Klaus called for the end of their training session. 

"I can't fucking hear you over this racket!" he shouted weakly at Reginald. "I'm done for the day!" 

Reginald looked furious, snapping back at him, but Klaus wasn't lying. During his training, it was almost like the ghosts could sense him using his powers, because they'd drifted in, one after the other, filling with the room with their snarling and screaming and gargling and crying. Klaus was at the point of collapse in terms of energy anyway, and he wouldn't be able to hear his father's _oh-so-constructive_ criticism. 

_KLAUS, KLAUS, KLAUS, KLAUS, KLAUS, KLAUS, KLAUS, KLAUS, KLAUS._

Relieved from attempting to discern his father's instructions, Klaus grabbed at his headphones, sighing in bliss as the noise diminished before being replaced by Fitz & the Tantrums. He snapped closed the stopwatch and placed it on his bedside table. 

His clock informed him that it was 2:00 pm, meaning he'd missed lunch. It also meant that his siblings had been awake for around five-six hours and nobody had come to check why he hadn't turned up to breakfast or lunch. ~~Maybe they couldn’t bear the sight of him.~~ For now, this meant Klaus could safely go to the kitchen without encountering any of his siblings. 

Klaus slipped out of the room, hands firmly pressed over his headphones, and did his best to walk through all the dead in his way, taking the stairs at a snail’s pace to prevent a re-enactment of that time he broke his jaw when he was younger. Between his unsteady limbs, the exhaustion pulling at him and his vision being filled with shrieking ghosts, Klaus considered it a miracle when he made it to the bottom of the staircase unharmed.

He made a beeline for the fridge upon arriving in the kitchen, clumsily forcing his legs to obey. A heavy hand landed on his shoulder as he opened the fridge, making him start. 

Klaus spun around, almost stumbling, one hand still pressing his headphones close. He could see the hand, still resting on his shoulder, warm and alive, but as he tried to follow it back to the owner of the arm, a ghost screamed in his face. 

"I'm sorry!" Klaus shouted. "I really can't see or hear you! Ghosts are being bitches today!" 

The owner of the hand seemed to hesitate before squeezing firmly and directing him to a seat. Before too long, a plate was in front of him, which seemed to be the leftovers of a lamb roast. Following the plate, a note was pushed at him.

_'It's just me and Diego here. I figured after last night you'd need a lie-in – sorry we didn't wake you for lunch. How are you feeling?_

_-Ben_ '

"Bennifer!" Klaus greeted, despite the exhaustion weighing him down. "My favourite ex-ghost!" 

A hand ruffled his hair affectionately and Klaus managed a weak smile. "And Diego. My actual favourite brother, who doesn't punch me in the face for no reason."

(He was deflecting, off-setting any inevitable incoming discussions about last night. He held out thin hope that it would work.)

There was a pause as Klaus shovelled food into his mouth, the dead screaming distantly at him and his music far too loud. 

"Whatever Ben's telling you," Klaus mumbled over a mouthful of food. "Don't believe him. The fucker Patrick Swayzee'd me."

Klaus tried to ignore how his hand was trembling, and each bite of food was a struggle to not stab himself with the fork. Even the simple task of feeding himself was gruelling. 

_KLAUS, KLAUS, KLAUS, KLAUS, KLAUS, KLAUS, KLAUS._

Another note was pushed into his line of vision.

_'Just me now. Diego’s gone to punch shit in the gym. How are you feeling?'_

“Dandy,” Klaus grumbled. “Just needed some beauty sleep, you know?” ~~Klaus wondered if Diego had left because it irritated him to see Klaus up and well while Five was confined to the infirmary.~~

_'Yeah right. Did you have nightmares? Your powers usually act up after that.'_

Klaus blew a half-hearted raspberry in the direction the notes were coming from. “Don’t you have bigger concerns than my dreams, Bennerino?”

_'You know Five doesn’t blame you for what happened. It wasn’t your fault.'_

Klaus snickered, propping himself up with his elbow. “That’s not what the rest of the family think.”

_'You always do this shit Klaus. Blaming yourself for stuff that isn’t your fault.'_

“Now that’s not a denial, is it Benjamin?”

Klaus eased himself out of his chair before Ben could respond, stumbling his way into the kitchen (and through half a dozen ghosts). Klaus fumbled his way around the kitchen blindly but managed to find his way to the kettle and the various cupboards he wanted. When he finally accomplished his self-appointed task with shaking hands, he placed the hot mug on the kitchen counter, pushing it forward. The heat felt nice against his palms. (Klaus always ran cold, and the excess of ghosts in the room did nothing to help that fact.)

“Can you get this to the little demon? It’s about time for his… what? Seventh cup of the day? I think I have more of a chance of tripping and spilling it all over myself in this state.”

Klaus couldn’t hear a response, but a hand eased the mug from his grip.

_KLAUS, KLAUS, KLAUS, KLAUS, KLAUS, KLAUS, KLAUS, KLAUS, KLAUS._

“I might head back to bed,” Klaus offered, on the off-chance that Ben had asked. “See if I can sleep these ghosts away.” _And some of this exhaustion_ , Klaus didn’t add

* * *

Klaus emerged from his room late that evening. The ghosts had finally begun to clear out, but the most vicious ones seemed intent on lingering (his father included). Klaus was still feeling a little off-kilter from training his powers, but he desperately needed food.

“We will need to work on your ability to banish spirits,” Reginald intoned, following Klaus down the stairs in slow strides. “That… influx of ghosts is impractical.”

“Please,” Klaus breathed out. “Just shut up for _once_ , pops.”

Reginald fell silent for a few blissful moments until Klaus reached the bottom of the stairs, but Klaus could feel the fury radiating from him. (Unlike Klaus, Reginald had no such issues with initiating and maintaining anger.)

“While you were incapacitated today,” Reginald began, his tone shifting to something that put Klaus on edge, “I spent some time observing your siblings.”

Klaus tilted his head absentmindedly as he caught the sound of voices in the lounge room, wandering over in curiosity. “Hmm?”

Klaus pulled open the sliding door and stopped short at the sight of all his siblings sprawled around the television. Luther was reclining on the couch farthest from Klaus, sitting beside Five (who was entirely laid up), with Allison on the boy’s other side. Ben and Vanya were both sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch. They were all in pyjamas and bundled up in blankets, watching some movie by lamplight, and it was picturesque and adorable and such a _familial_ scene that Klaus hadn’t been invited to.

All eyes shot to him as the light from the hallway entered the room.

“Klaus!” Ben called, smiling.

Five attempted to sit up, but Allison was quick to press him back down, a protective hand on his shoulder before she turned to face Klaus again. “Klaus.” Allison smiled uncertainly. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“They’ve been here for a few hours,” Reginald murmured behind him. “Number One and Number Three were rather insistent that you were not to be invited. They wish to prevent another event like the one that led to Number Five’s injuries from occurring again.”

Klaus opened his mouth to protest, but then he noticed the protective hand Allison had on Five’s shoulder (Five, who was pale and had been carefully swaddled in blankets in a way that he _never_ would’ve permitted if he was well), and the guarded expressions on both Allison and Luther’s faces.

 _I think it’s best if you stay out of any fights in the future. At least until you’ve got your powers under control_ , Allison’s voice echoed in his mind.

 _We don’t need to be worrying about you during a fight. Five got hurt protecting you,_ Luther agreed.

 _Oh_ , Klaus realised quietly, his heart sinking.

“Sorry,” Klaus burst out before any of his siblings could speak. “I was just going to grab dinner and I thought I heard something…” he trailed off before clearing his throat, plastering a cheery smile on his face. “I’ll be off now!”

“Klaus, if you’re feeling better-” Ben began.

Klaus cut him off with a wave of his _GOODBYE_ hand. “Night Benji. Other siblings.”

Between his seventeen years at the Academy and some odd thirteen years on the streets, drifting from club to club and relationship to relationship, Klaus had learned how to recognise when he wasn’t welcome. ~~He just never thought that would apply to Ben.~~

Klaus gently closed the sliding door before Ben could try to argue and headed for the kitchen numbly. Even the ghosts, who had been hissing and whispering nastily before, had fallen silent. (He didn’t notice Reginald silently studying the now-muted ghosts, a contemplative look in his eyes.)

Klaus collapsed into a chair at the dining table, staring blankly at his hands.

“Your weakness resulted in Number Five being injured,” Reginald reminded him, his voice slightly less harsh than usual. “It would be unfair to blame your siblings for being upset that you caused their brother harm. They only wish to protect him from your weakness.”

Klaus nodded weakly. “Not their fault,” he mumbled in agreement.

Absentmindedly, he reached for the box of doughnuts on the table – he’d had worse for meals before – but Reginald clearing his throat caused him to freeze.

“I would suggest a more nutritious meal than doughnuts,” Reginald huffed. “You will need to be able to keep your energy up if you wish to continue training.” There was a short pause. “Unless you’d rather allow your weakness to burden your siblings more?”

“You’re right,” Klaus muttered. He could hear humming in the next room and stood, locating his mother and asking her to make him a healthier meal to help his training.

Klaus sat back down at the table as Grace bustled around the kitchen, cheerfully humming. He hesitantly looked up at Reginald. “Thank you,” he murmured.

“Thank you, _sir_ ,” Reginald corrected.

“Thank you, sir,” Klaus repeated dully, the words a bitter pill to swallow.

(That night Klaus practised manifesting ghosts until he couldn’t hold himself upright anymore.)

* * *

Ben caught up with him in the kitchen the next morning.

“Klaus! Hey, Klaus, wait up!”

_Klaus! Help us, Klaus! You have to help us. Klaus, Klaus, KLAUS!_

Klaus jolted when a hand landed on his shoulder. He hadn’t realised that he had paused in his task.

“Hey.” Ben smiled at him.

His brother was so cheerful recently. He loved being able to interact with his siblings and to eat food and the novelty of being able to touch, to hold, to hug his siblings hadn’t worn off. Distantly, Klaus was happy for him.

Klaus resumed his movements, pulling two mugs from the shelf.

“You should’ve stayed for the movie yesterday,” Ben remarked. “Sorry we didn’t call you down sooner. You’d seemed pretty out of it earlier.”

Klaus hesitated, but Reginald spoke before he could.

“We’ve been over this, Number Four. Your siblings wished to protect Number Five from you. Until you can control your powers, you remain a danger to them.”

Klaus nodded jerkily and Ben frowned softly at him.

“Feels like we haven’t talked in a while,” Ben hedged. “How are you doing, Klaus?”

Klaus paused momentarily. “Tired,” he offered after a moment. He’d been up late last night practising his powers.

“Nightmares?” Ben asked gently.

Klaus nodded, tapping a teaspoon once against the rim of the mug before placing it in the sink. He picked up the two mugs and carefully took them to the dining table, placing them at Five’s usual spot. One black, one hazelnut.

Klaus picked up his own bowl – oatmeal, at Reginald’s suggestion, to keep his energy up – and made to exit the kitchen.

Ben caught his arm, dark worried eyes meeting his. “Klaus, you’re really quiet this morning. Is everything alright?” Klaus nodded dutifully. “Then, why don’t you stay for breakfast? Eat with the family?”

Something inside Klaus twisted, anxiety igniting within him at the thought of facing Five, after what he’d done. He couldn’t. And what if he lost control of his powers? Reginald had pointed it out last night, his accidental manifestation of the ghosts during the fight could also be a danger to his siblings. They wouldn’t stand a chance against a vicious hoard of ghosts – not when they couldn’t be killed.

“Benny, I’m really tired,” Klaus murmured, picking at a string on his sleeve. “I’ve got a headache and I don’t think I can deal with a lot of noise this morning from our siblings. And company.”

Ben’s eyes widened slightly, and Klaus was certain he could recall the masses of ghosts that followed their siblings around.

“Of course, Klaus.” Ben nodded. He squeezed his arm gently. “I’m here if you ever need to talk.”

Klaus smiled weakly and left the moment Ben let go of him.

He didn’t need to talk. He needed to get a hold on his powers before he hurt anyone else.

* * *

A week. Klaus managed to go a week before Five cornered him.

In the meantime, he’d gotten some progress with his powers. He was able to manifest Reginald for a full hour at a time without draining himself too badly, a few times a day, and had managed to banish some of the nastier ghosts. Reginald wanted to test other factors, such as whether the activity of the ghost affected Klaus’ ability to maintain them, how many ghosts he’d be able to manifest at once. He also wanted to continue working on banishing spirits, because the ensuing flood of ghosts after training was unbearable for all parties involved.

All that aside, this was the most progress Klaus had made in his powers since he was a teenager. A part of him was pleased and wanted to celebrate this with his siblings. A larger part of him knew that his meagre progress wasn’t enough yet.

He’d gotten into a new routine. He had an early breakfast, something large to wake him up and sustain him for the day. He’d sneak down for a snack at some point during the day. Occasionally he’d talk to his siblings, stilted and awkward conversations that Klaus never initiated. And he’d have a late dinner when the kitchen was empty.

All things considered; Klaus had been doing well to avoid Five. Until now, that was, when Klaus rounded a corner only to be pushed into a wall by an irate Five.

“What the _hell_ are you doing?” Five demanded, gripping him by his jacket.

Klaus frowned, holding up his sandwich. “Getting lunch.”

Five glared and Klaus had to stop himself from flinching. “You know damn well that’s not what I meant. Why the hell are you avoiding me?”

Klaus was tired. A type of weariness that had begun when he first started training and hadn’t quite gone away since. But he tried to push through that, offering Five his best attempt at a grin. “Don’t be silly, Fivey. I haven’t been ignoring you.”

“Then why haven’t I seen you for a whole week? We live in the same house.”

“I’ve been busy. Really busy, actually. I didn’t have time to stop and chat.”

“And yet you had time to make me coffee, _three times a day_ – _everyday_ – for the past week,” Five shot back. “Although _somehow_ you never found the time to deliver it in person.”

“Somehow,” Klaus agreed. “Don’t be ridiculous, Five. Why would I do that to my favourite brother?”

Five wasn’t deterred. “I don’t know,” he hissed. “ _Maybe_ out of some idiotic sense of guilt over the Commission’s attack!”

Klaus couldn’t help but wince at that and Five scowled like he’d been proven right but wasn’t happy about it.

_We don’t need to be worrying about you during a fight. Five got hurt protecting you._

“Listen carefully, you moron,” Five stressed. “ _It wasn’t your fault_.”

Reginald, who had observed silently until now, chose this moment to speak up. “An interesting, if not misguided perspective. Tell me, Number Four, would Number Five have been injured if you weren’t present?”

Klaus bit his lip, shaking his head sadly.

Five released him, spinning away with a shout of frustration. He turned back toward Klaus, getting close again. “You’re my brother,” he ground out. “You would’ve done the same for me. I don’t regret taking that bullet for you, Klaus, and I never will. I’d do it again without hesitation.”

And that was precisely the problem, Klaus noted dejectedly. He was a danger to his siblings and would always be in the future, unless he could get better. Until he didn’t need to be protected by his siblings – he could protect them. 

“Perhaps,” Reginald cut in, Klaus’ gaze bouncing to him. “It would be a good idea to stay away from your siblings until you can control your weakness. Just until they are no longer in danger, given Number Five’s willingness to throw himself into harm’s way for you.”

Klaus hesitated before nodding. It made sense. Allison and Luther had had the right idea in keeping him away from Five. It was what was best for him.

Five looked appeased and stepped back. “Good. Now I have to go listen to Vanya practice. Ben’s been looking for you. He wants to talk.”

Klaus nodded again and Five disappeared in a blue flash, leaving him to make his way to his room.

It was better for everyone like this.

* * *

Here’s the thing.

Dear old dad, Reginald Hargreeves, was many things. A right bastard, for one. Abusive, for another. Harsh, cruel, heartless, horrible, merciless, cold-blooded and many other adjectives that Klaus had thought up during his childhood.

Their father kept secrets. Bucketloads. He’d hidden Vanya’s powers, reduced her to ordinariness. Sent Luther to the moon on a fruitless quest. But Klaus had never seen the man tell a lie.

Reginald was never one to spare his feelings with white lies like his siblings. He spoke the truth, about Klaus’ uselessness and his potential. About him being a disappointment. And he’d spoken the truth when he informed Klaus of Allison and Luther’s anger toward him. Klaus had seen it himself that night. He’d _heard_ it the night when he nearly got Five killed.

_I think it’s best if you stay out of any fights in the future. At least until you’ve got your powers under control._

_We don’t need to be worrying about you during a fight. Five got hurt protecting you._

So, Klaus knew that Reginald wasn’t lying when he mentioned how disappointed his siblings were with him. How frustrated they were that in the thirty years he’d been alive, he hadn’t yet gotten any semblance of control over his powers. How he was just a worthless junkie to them.

Klaus knew that Reginald didn’t waste his time with lies. (He wished he didn’t know.)

* * *

Klaus stumbled across them on his way to his room. Allison and Vanya were laughing and talking, and Allison had her arm looped through Vanya’s. They seemed… happy. Good for them.

Allison and Vanya both seemed to sober when they caught sight of him, and Klaus made to walk past them, not wanting to intrude on their sisterly bonding.

“Hey Klaus.” Allison caught his arm and he turned to face her. “Are you alright? You look… different.”

“You’re not wearing any eyeliner,” Vanya pointed out curiously. “You always wear eyeliner.”

Allison smiled uncertainly. “She’s right.” Her smile brightened suddenly. “That’s okay. Me and Vanya can help you with that. It’s been awhile since we’ve had one of our fashion shows, Klaus. I _know_ you’ll love some of my new skirts.” Allison trailed off, a silent question hanging in the air.

Klaus hesitated. “That sounds… nice,” he admitted, head reeling from her turn-around in attitude. Didn’t she hate him?

_I think it’s best if you stay out of any fights in the future. At least until you’ve got your powers under control._

Allison beamed.

“You don’t have time to play dress up with your siblings, Number Four,” Reginald’s booming voice pronounced. “It’s your designated training time.”

Klaus wilted, the small hope that had risen inside him dying down. “Maybe another time,” he murmured, tugging his arm from Allison’s grasp to trudge away.

“Is he okay?” he heard Vanya ask behind him.

It was still on his mind, a few hours later, while he was training.

“Allison didn’t seem angry.”

Reginald placed down his journal – the one Klaus had secreted from his study – to scowl at Klaus.

“Maybe she’s forgiven me,” Klaus said, almost eagerly. “Vanya didn’t seem too upset either. Maybe they’ve all forgiven me-”

“-Number Four-”

“-It was an accident-”

“-Number Four!”

“But what if-”

“That is _enough!”_

Suddenly Klaus was on the ground, clutching at his jaw, white-hot pain flashing through his face. He was gasping for breath, and had to take a moment to reorient himself, looking up at his father in disbelief. He’d hit him. Again.

“The question, Number Four,” Reginald began, glaring down at him, “is not whether or not your siblings forgive you. It is whether you deserve to be forgiven.”

Klaus spat out a mouthful of blood, looking away from his father. (It didn’t matter. He could feel his presence looming over him.)

“Do you think that you are not to blame for Number Five’s injuries?”

Klaus kept his gaze on the floor. “No, sir.”

“So, do you think that you deserve to be forgiven for causing harm to Number Five?”

“No, sir.”

“And do you think that you should be spending time with your siblings before you have mastered your powers?”

“No, sir.”

“Very well. Now that we are in agreement, let us resume training. This time, instead of focusing on banishing individual ghosts, I want you to focus on the spirits you wish to maintain. Other than myself, I want you to block the rest out. Focus solely on manifesting me, and let the other ghosts fade away.”

Klaus pushed himself up to lean against his bed before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. He tried to breathe deeply and just feel with his senses, like Reginald had taught him. He could feel the ghosts lurking in his room (they were still hissing and screaming and gargling, but were at a lower number). They were like small balls of light – fragile things really. This time, instead of reaching out and snuffing them out, one by one, Klaus focused on the spectre closest to him – his father. He inhaled and exhaled deeply and imagined all the other spheres of light being washed away, bar this one. He breathed in, focusing on his father, and breathed out, letting all the others fade away.

When Klaus opened his eyes, he was floating several feet off the ground, his hands glowing blue.

At first, Klaus panicked, but it seemed almost instinctive to slowly lower himself to the floor again with a long breath out. Klaus realised something.

It was quiet.

There were no screams of the dead, close or distant. There were no hissed threats or pleads for help. No moans and gargles or the sound of a ghost choking on their own blood. The soundtrack of ghosts that had underpinned his early childhood and his post-apocalypse life had disappeared.

The sound of silence was…blissful. Klaus had never heard anything so sweet. ~~He wished he could share it with Ben.~~

Klaus realised he was crying, silent tears trailing down his face. “ _Thank you_ ,” he breathed, looking up at his father. “Thank you, sir.”

Reginald stared down at him, expression unchanged. “You are welcome, Number Four. I am glad that you can appreciate the results of listening to my instructions.”

Perhaps, Klaus mused, his father did know what was best for him.

* * *

The telekinesis came naturally to Klaus.

It was a relief. His siblings’ powers came naturally to some. Luther could lift furniture before he could walk. Five’s jumping was as natural to him as breathing. Vanya could decimate fields without any training. Though it lacked precision at times, Klaus had always admired their instinctive prowess.

It was relieving to finally have a power that felt like little more than an extension of a limb. As easy as breathing. Reginald was rigorous with his training, teaching him endurance and precision and testing the limits of his power.

When it was time for lunch, Klaus didn’t bother walking. It was much easier to just float, bobbing gently along like a puppet on a string. Everything felt so distant lately, it was too much effort to coax his legs to move. He paused at the top of the staircase at the sound of angry voices below him.

“Hmm.” Reginald strode down the stairs, disappearing into the wall of the living room. He hadn’t seemed like he expected Klaus to follow, so he remained as he was, bobbing on the spot.

“Klaus?” Vanya’s voice, he registered vaguely. “Are you… floating?”

Klaus turned to face her with just a thought. He nodded after a second, registering the question.

“Is that a new power?” Vanya asked, smiling.

Klaus nodded.

“That’s fantastic! Good job, Klaus.”

Klaus nodded again before noticing the concern in Vanya’s eyes. He pushed a smile onto his lips. (It had been a while since he’d interacted with any of his siblings without Reginald present, offering advice on how to respond. He didn’t know how to act.)

Vanya took a step closer and Klaus’ heart rate spiked, _because he wasn’t supposed to be near his siblings, he wasn’t supposed to talk to them. Dad would be furious. They’d get hurt. Klaus was putting his little sister in danger, didn’t she know he was dangerous?_

Vanya backed away a few steps, eyeing him cautiously. “You okay, Klaus? Try to take some deep breaths. Everything’s alright.”

Klaus forced himself to breathe in slowly, but his mind was still muddled and when Vanya extended a comforting hand, he felt himself jerk back a few feet without conscious consideration, a reflexive yank at his telekinesis.

“Sorry,’’ Klaus breathed out, panicking more, because he knew how difficult Vanya had found it to become comfortable with herself and her powers again, certain that she was a ticking time-bomb (when truly, the only monster around was Klaus).

But Vanya just smiled gently at him, always his beautiful, kind and understanding little sister. “It’s okay. I get it. Some days I don’t feel like touch either.” Vanya turned away from him, leaning against the banister of the staircase. “They’re still at it, huh?”

Klaus was confused for a moment before he picked up on the shouts beneath them again. It sounded like Luther and Diego.

Vanya offered him a conspiratorial look. “I try to avoid them when they’re like this. All the noise isn’t a great idea for me. And it sucks hearing our family fight, you know?”

It was working, whatever Vanya was trying. Klaus could feel his breathing slowing to a normal rate and his heartrate steadying as he focused on the soft sound of his sister’s voice.

_BANG!_

Suddenly there was a gunshot (gunshots?), and Klaus was dropping to the ground, instinctively covering his head – but he was falling (maybe he’d been blown back by a bomb?) and skittering down a hill, landing roughly, and-

 _Klaus blinked slowly, his ears ringing as dirt and bodies alike rained over him._ Fuck _._ Fuck. _There’d been a bomb. He managed to grasp his gun and scramble onto his knees, peering out of the small ditch he’d fallen into. The sound of helicopters whirred from above, and there was shouting from his fellow soldiers._

_He squeezed a few potshots off at the encroaching Charlies, but he was having trouble focusing on them and his hands were trembling. Klaus ducked back down, and that’s when he saw him._

_Klaus crawled over, desperately reaching and rolling Dave’s body over. He was still, empty eyes staring unseeingly into the sky._

_“No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Dave please. Dave, stay with me!”_

“Klaus?”

_Klaus ignored the voice, sobbing harder. His squad could wait._

“Klaus, I need you to calm down. We’re in 2019. At the Academy.”

_Klaus barely registered the voices, cradling Dave’s body closer. “No, no, no, no.”_

“The war is over, Klaus. You’re in the Academy.”

_“No, no, no, Dave.”_

“Number Four, stop this _at once_!”

And Klaus slammed back into awareness, gasping for breath. He was curled into a ball at the bottom of the staircase (when had he gotten there?) and Ben was crouching beside him. Klaus’ gaze swept straight past Ben’s comforting smile to lock onto the expression of fury on his father’s face.

“Hey Klaus, you back with us?”

Frazzled, Klaus’ eyes met Ben’s before returning to Reginald’s.

“We’re in 2019, at the Academy,” Ben reaffirmed one more time, his voice low and soothing. “The gunshot you heard was just Five being an idiot. Everything’s good.”

“It’s not my fault you _morons_ wouldn’t shut up,” Five grumbled, and Klaus was struck with the horrifying revelation that all his siblings were there.

Luther and Diego and Allison were all hovering a few steps back. Vanya was just a step behind Ben, watching him worriedly. And Five. Five was standing only a metre away, staring down at him with his usual detached apathy. 

And that was what brought Klaus to attention.

He _couldn’t_ be this close to his siblings. He’d get them hurt again. Why the hell was Five this close to him? Klaus was putting them in danger. He was putting them all in danger. Five had gotten lucky last time.

_You can’t do this again, Klaus. We got lucky this time._

Klaus was on his feet in moments, running, not stopping until he was in his room, door locked and his siblings safe again. He took a few deep breaths before looking up to meet his father’s irate scowl.

“You have once again placed your siblings in danger.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“You have proven yourself to be weak and incapable of protecting yourself, let alone your siblings.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“Make me corporeal, Number Four.”

Klaus obeyed without hesitation, and when a heavy fist came sailing toward him, he made no effort to dodge.

* * *

Klaus felt numb.

He’d never been stronger. He could manifest dozens of ghosts at once, direct them to obey his will with just a thought. He only saw the ghosts he wanted to, which was mostly just his father. ~~A few times he found himself attempting to summon Ben only to blink when it didn’t work, and remember why~~. His telekinesis was powerful, growing more precise in its control, but a force to be reckoned with.

His father was pleased with his progress. Klaus could tell in the way that he hadn’t hit him in days. Klaus was getting better. Stronger. ~~Maybe soon he’d be able to talk to his siblings.~~

But Klaus felt empty. He was tired. Exhausted, even. He had been ever since that night when Five had gotten injured. When _he’d_ gotten Five injured. It was a type of exhaustion that was bone-deep, sinking beneath his skin and weighing on his body, his mind, everything.

Klaus blinked and he was outside. He was with his siblings. His breath hitched instinctively, but his father’s voice came to him. He was allowed. They were on a mission. One of Number Two’s associates had requested their help with an ongoing museum robbery.

“Vanya and I will take the roof,” Luther outlined, indicating on a map of the building. “Five will teleport us up there. We can begin to work our way down. Diego, Allison and Ben can start on the ground level. Five will need to get Ben to the staff backroom as soon as possible – that’s where we think they’re holding the hostages, and that’s where we think their numbers will be greatest.”

It was their usual strategy. Diego, Allison and Five would storm the lower floors, Luther would take the roof. Ben would take the most densely populated area. Klaus would be the look-out.

“A foolish plan,” Reginald scoffed. “There is a much larger number of assailants than your typical missions from your childhood, and a museum is a considerably different venue. Number Three would be extremely vulnerable on the wide expanse of the ground floor without the opportunity to use her powers. There are three floors to this building and a large area to cover, yet Number One intends for Number Five to waste four of his jumps in transporting them to the roof. However, of most significance is Number Six. If you wish to restart the Umbrella Academy, utilising Number Six’s powers in front of a large group of hostages would be a grievous error.”

Klaus remained silent as Diego argued over a few details with Luther, nodding compliantly with his father’s words.

“ _Well_ , Number Four?” Reginald demanded. “Speak up!”

Klaus flinched before immediately speaking. “Luther?”

Klaus had to stop himself from wincing when Luther turned on him, scowling. Diego had already put him in a bad mood.

“What do you want, Klaus?” he snapped.

“Cool it,” Ben said sharply.

Luther paused, some of the aggression on his face fading. “Sorry. What is it, Klaus?”

Klaus dully repeated Reginald’s words as his father began to speak again “Letting Number Five transport you and Number Seven to the roof wastes four of his jumps and will leave him exhausted. The museum is a large venue and he will need to jump frequently. That would be a waste of his abilities. Number Three would be vulnerable on the ground floor. It’s an open area with little cover. She would find it difficult to get close enough to rumour anyone. And as this is your first mission, we need to gain the police’s trust and the public’s favour. Releasing the Horror in front of a large group of witnesses would be a mistake.”

His siblings were silent, looking at him in shock. He blinked.

“Klaus?” Ben murmured, his voice a mixture of fear and confusion.

“What do you suggest we do then?” Luther was paying him his full attention, seriously considering his words.

When Reginald spoke again, Klaus echoed him. “Your main priority should be getting Number Three to the control room. The museum will have speakers throughout the building, and she will be able to rumour a majority of the assailants to surrender. The rest should be taken care of by Number Two and Number Five. Number Seven can determine their whereabouts with her powers.”

“How will Allison get to the control room?” Five questioned, staring at him intensely, an odd note to his voice.

“There’s not enough cover on the ground floor for her to sneak past. Number Two or Number One should help escort her. She’ll need a distraction of the ground floor.”

“Such as?” There was a strange hardness to Five’s eyes as he regarded Klaus.

“ _Me_ ,” Reginald stated and Klaus parroted.

His siblings burst into noise, arguments and protests and shouting.

“Go now,” Reginald instructed him. “You must commence the plan before these robbers escalate the situation.”

Klaus nodded and dutifully trudged toward the door. As he walked, he let his mental defences lower, ghosts beginning to appear in his vision. Klaus could hear the clamouring and screaming and moaning from just within the building that meant that these robbers had done their fair share of killing.

Klaus didn’t think, he just _pulled_ , the spirits coming closer, growing stronger. He twisted the blue glow around his hands, a familiar coldness sweeping through him. He thought that maybe he heard one of his siblings call his name, but it was lost in the sound of _Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus._

Klaus opened the door of the museum, stepping through. A dozen masked men turned to face him, guns raised and levelled at his head. And Klaus _pushed_.

The ghosts came to life as they ran, their wails turning into an angry battle cry as they became part of Klaus’ will. And they attacked, tearing into the robbers with ferocity.

Distantly, he was aware of his siblings joining him. Diego and Allison were dashing for the door at the other end of the room while Luther helped clear their path.

Klaus let his hold on the ghosts weaken, the spirits flickering before only twenty were left. But Klaus pushed his power into them – the soldiers who had died in war, the gang members, just a special group Reginald had helped him identify that had died in fights, weapons in hand. Weapons which were now being put to use.

Twenty, Reginald had concluded, was a suitable number of ghosts to maintain while also enabling Klaus to utilise his telekinesis to its full extent. With that in mind, Klaus rose, floating high above the ground to adequately assess his battlefield. He looked down at both the robbers and his siblings and pondered at how small they seemed. They were _nothing_ in comparison to his power.

Klaus violently swiped at the robbers near Luther, sending them flying into the walls.

This was what he’d been training for _,_ he realised. He could protect his siblings. They didn’t have to worry about him anymore.

Klaus was more present than he’d been in days as he glared at the robbers attacking his family. Like ants to him. They were all

So

 _Weak_.

With a violent telekinetic push, Klaus swept all the robbers in the room off their feet in one move. None got back up.

And then, over the speakers, “ _I heard a rumour_ that everyone affiliated with the robbers dropped their weapons and surrendered peacefully to the police.”

And it was over.

Klaus stared down at the bodies littering the floor. They weren’t dead. Despite his lowered mental defences, no new ghosts had appeared. Reginald had instructed him to minimise deaths. They needed to gain the favour of the public, after all.

(They were all so insignificant. Just ants waiting for Klaus to crush them. Klaus was so far beyond them.)

“Klaus? You can come down now. It’s over. Five and Vanya rounded up the rest of them.”

Klaus blinked before lowering himself to the ground, landing beside Ben. Something moved in the corner of his eye and he turned, catching sight of the attacker just as he fired his gun.

“ _No!_ ” Klaus swept his hand out without thinking, a burst of telekinesis that knocked the assailant into the wall. But he didn’t have Number Two’s power, and the bullet was barely swayed, hitting Diego in the arm. His brother let out a grunt of pain.

And Klaus felt his world spin to a halt.

“ _Diego_ ,” he gasped out, stumbling forward to grab his brother. He pulled him by his uninjured arm, dragging him toward the exit. “We- we need to go. Mom can-”

His thoughts were a jumbled mess, but he didn’t stop dragging Diego. He was shot. His brother had been shot.

It was Five all over again.

“Klaus? Klaus! I know. It’s just a flesh wound. I’ll be fine.”

But Klaus couldn’t breathe. Everything blurred past him until they were finally back at the Academy, and Diego was being taken care of by Mom, safely in the infirmary. Klaus was curled up in a chair in the corner of the room, watching anxiously.

He- he had to leave. He had to go.

It had been a mistake, getting that close to his siblings. He’d gotten them hurt again. Diego this time. Who knew who he’d hurt next?

“This is unacceptable, Number Four!” His father had never sounded more enraged. “Once again, your actions have led to one of your siblings being injured!”

“ _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,_ ” Klaus pleaded.

“An apology does not excuse your actions, Number Four! It’s your fault Number Two was injured!”

“ _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry._ ”

“I believe,” Reginald said heavily. “That it is time for your individual training session.”

A weight sunk to the bottom of his stomach and his breath caught.

No.

_No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no._

He didn’t want to go back. He couldn’t. Not again.

“Number Four! Are you disobeying me?”

Klaus flinched and shook his head vehemently, shooting to his feet. He exited the room as quickly as he could. His mind was a million miles away as he walked through the Academy.

“Klaus? Where are you going?” A female voice. Allison? Vanya?

“Training,” he heard himself reply numby. Any response faded into the background as he kept walking.

The cemetery was only a few blocks away. Klaus seemed to blink and he was already there, letting himself past the gates. Fear gripped his heart and he could hear his breath coming in short, shallow pants as he neared what had been the primary focus of his nightmares for several decades of his life.

“Manifest me, Number Four.”

With barely a thought, Reginald was corporeal and unlocking the mausoleum, pushing open the door. Heart pounding in his ears, Klaus walked forward, only making it to the doorway before Reginald _shoved_ him, and he was landing roughly at the bottom of the steps on the cold concrete. He scrambled backwards, curling up in the corner of the room instinctively.

“Number Two was hurt because of your weakness,” Reginald reminded him coldly. “You truly are my greatest disappointment, Number Four.”

“ _I’m sorry_!” Klaus breathed. “Please, sir. Don’t-”

“Lower your mental defences, Number Four.”

Klaus sobbed, obeying, ghosts beginning to flicker into the room. Not the nice, brave ones Klaus had become accustomed to in his training. These were the contents of nightmares, decades-old, rotting corpses who had long since lost any shred of sanity. _And they were starting to take notice of Klaus_.

“Manifest them.”

Klaus’ head jerked toward his father, horrified. Surely he couldn’t mean…? They- they’d kill him. Just like they’d always promised to do. 

_They’d kill him._

“Number Four!”

And Klaus complied, pushing his power into all the spirits in the room.

“I shall return for you in three hours.”

The door thudded shut, and there was the sound of a heavy bolt scraping into place. Klaus was plunged into darkness.

Except. The spirits, who were glowing with the blue light of his powers, who had just determined that he was there. And they were corporeal.

The ghosts descended on him, and he _screamed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, wow, you guys are incredible. Thank you so much to everyone that left kudos, bookmarked or commented. You’ve made my week. 
> 
> Next chapter kicks off with Ben’s perspective, and the Hargreeves finally realise what's going on. Up in 4 days.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One last time.

It happened on a Tuesday morning.

Ben had been at the breakfast table, sipping at a latte Allison had made for him. (For all his efforts, Five had failed to get Ben to like coffee – it was too bitter, and Klaus had failed to get Ben to like hot chocolate – it was too sweet.) It was sweet enough for someone who hadn’t had to taste anything in decades, and had become his favourite drink.

It was difficult, being alive again. There were all these things Ben had forgotten, or just never experienced. It was a good thing his siblings had enthusiastically offered their help in getting him to try as many things as possible within the past few months. (They were all floundering, his siblings, struggling to adjust to this new, almost normal lifestyle. Struggling to adjust to being a family. Ben didn’t mind being one of their pet projects.)

Five was grumbling about the quality of Diego’s coffee and Vanya was curled up in a jumper at the table, cradling her own mug. Allison, Luther and Klaus weren’t up yet.

That was when Diego’s phone rang, disrupting the peaceful bustle of food being made. Ben peered curiously at him as his brother snatched up his phone, focused on helping Mom make breakfast.

“Hargreeves. What do you want?”

Ben rolled his eyes conspiratorially at Vanya and she giggled into her mug.

“Oh shit, really?... And you want _us_ there?... Alright, we’ll be there as soon as possible.”

Diego snapped his phone closed and turned to face them. “We’ve got a mission.”

Vanya promptly choked on her coffee. “ _What?_ ”

“There’s a hostage situation at that fancy museum a few blocks away,” Diego informed them. “My associate Beaman called to let me know that they’re taking Luther up on his offer. They want our help for this.”

Ben scoffed. “Like they didn’t laugh in his face when he made the offer.”

To be fair, Ben had too.

Five gulped down the rest of his coffee before standing. “Well, we’d better get this over with. I have plans this afternoon. C’mon Vanya, you need to get changed.”

“But I- I’m not a member of the Umbrella Academy,” Vanya protested, wide-eyed.

“Of course you are,” Five smoothly overruled her objections. “You survived the old man’s reign, just as we did. Trained your powers, just as we have. You’re a member.”

“But she doesn’t have to go if she doesn’t want to,” Ben intervened, levelling Five with a cool stare. His brother merely looked expectantly at Vanya.

“Are you sure?” Vanya murmured, after a moment. “I’ve never been on a mission before.”

“No time like the present,” Five settled briskly, tucking his hands in his pockets.

“We’ll make sure nobody hurts you,” Ben reassured, noticing her lingering doubt.

“Whatever you decide, decide quick,” Diego informed them. “I’m going to go let the others know. We leave in five minutes.”

Diego left the room, no doubt to ponder which of his precious holsters he should wear. (Ben agreed with Klaus. Their brother _did_ have an unhealthy relationship with his knives.)

Ben made to follow him, pausing at the doorway. “I’d appreciate it if you were there,” he directed at Vanya, offering a smile. “It’d be nice, knowing you’re watching our backs.”

With that, he turned and left to prepare.

Five minutes later, Five and Vanya slid into the van with the rest of them, his sister looking nervous but determined. He smiled at her, and she smiled back.

Five leaned over the front seat to rip the domino mask from Luther’s pocket and toss it to the ground. “We’re not wearing fucking masks, Luther.”

~~God, he’d missed his siblings.~~

There were cameras flashing and many people watching as they exited the van to briefly commune with the police, before one handed Luther a map of the building and retreated to the police line. Ben had always hated it. Countless reporters vying to get a shot at the monster under his skin. Somewhere inside him, the Horror stirred, and Ben was certain They knew what was happening.

“Vanya and I will take the roof,” Luther instructed, and Ben was relieved at Luther’s foresight to not drop his sister into the most dangerous place possible ~~(that was his job).~~ “Five will teleport us up there. We can begin to work our way down. Diego, Allison and Ben can start on the ground level. Five will need to get Ben to the staff backroom as soon as possible – that’s where we think they’re holding the hostages, and that’s where we think their numbers will be greatest.”

Ben grimaced. It was a familiar tactic, leaving him in the most densely populated area of robbers. It didn’t change Ben’s hatred of the strategy. This was something he hadn’t missed while being dead. Instinctively, he looked to Klaus, who would surely offer him a comforting smile and grab his hand.

He looked to Klaus, and stopped.

His brother… wasn’t looking too good. There were dark bags under his eyes – eyes that were free of any form of eyeliner, Ben noted. The clothes he was wearing were… surprisingly normal? A faded red jumper and pants. Most importantly, was the hollow look in his eyes.

Ben had seen Klaus high out of his mind and he’d seen him in the worst stages of withdrawal. He’d been there as his brother had cried, laughed, screamed, smiled, but he’d _never_ seen that look in his eyes.

Reflexively, he took a step closer to his brother. Everything about him was screaming _wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong._ Noting the blank expression on his face, Ben wondered if he could even hear them before Klaus flinched, snapping to attention.

“Luther?”

Luther turned to Klaus, clearly pissed off from talking to Diego. “What do you want, Klaus?”

Ben bristled at his tone. “Cool it,” he snapped before resuming studying Klaus worriedly. Had he always been this pale?

He was gratified to notice Luther pause, letting some of the anger leave him. “Sorry. What is it, Klaus?”

Ben smiled at his brother encouragingly, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Letting Number Five transport you and Number Seven to the roof wastes four of his jumps and will leave him exhausted. The museum is a large venue and he will need to jump frequently. That would be a waste of his abilities. Number Three would be vulnerable on the ground floor. It’s an open area with little cover. She would find it difficult to get close enough to rumour anyone. And as this is your first mission, we need to gain the police’s trust and the public’s favour. Releasing the Horror in front of a large group of witnesses would be a mistake.”

And Ben’s heart stopped.

He felt like his chest had caved in. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure he had enough air, and his heart had leapt into his throat. There was a hand gripping his arm tightly, steadying him when he swayed, and Ben was glad. ( _Danger?_ He felt the Horror question, rising to the surface. He quickly pushed Them back down.)

When they were children, Klaus had been the most eager to adopt their new names when his mother had given them, latching onto them like a lifeline and never looking back.

_(“Ben.” Bright eyes. A gap-toothed grin. “Ben-Ben-Ben-Ben-Ben-Ben. It suits you.”)_

There was _no_ explanation for why Klaus had suddenly reverted to using their numbers.

And Klaus had called Ben’s monster “the Horror”. Klaus _never_ did that. He teasingly referred to Them as his “tentacled friend” or any mundane name from an endless list that had ranged from “Jeff” to “Alicia”. He _never_ called it the Horror, or any other denouncing title.

_(“I don’t mind your octopus buddy,” Klaus had announced one day when they were kids, curled up together on Ben’s bed. “I don’t like how Dad makes you use them to kill people, and I don’t like how it hurts you, but I don’t mind Them. They keep you safe.”_

_Ben had been speechless. He knew how much he scared some of his siblings and he’d always despised how the Horror made him a monster. Klaus’ simple acceptance had meant the world to him, and Ben felt a jolt of_ approvalaffectionfondness _come from the Eldritch at his brother’s words._

_“They like you too,” he’d admitted, placing a hand on his stomach to feel Them gently pressing against his skin.)_

Something was wrong. He felt sick.

“Klaus?” Ben whispered, more afraid than he’d ever been before.

“What do you suggest we do then?” Luther questioned.

Ben looked desperately to the rest of his siblings, hoping that _one_ of them had noticed, even if Luther overlooked it. Diego and Allison seemed just as shaken as he was, staring worriedly at Klaus. Vanya had a hand cupped to her mouth, her eyes frightened and confused. Five was the only one to meet his eyes, releasing his grip on Ben’s arm. Though his brother tried to mask it, his eyes gave away how unsettled he was as Klaus spoke again.

“Your main priority should be getting Number Three to the control room. The museum will have speakers throughout the building, and she will be able to rumour a majority of the assailants. The rest should be taken care of by Number Two and Number Five. Number Seven can determine their whereabouts with her powers.”

_Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong._

Klaus didn’t speak like that. He didn’t use words like “assailants” and “whereabouts”. And he didn’t know strategy. He shouldn’t know how to concoct a perfectly usable battle plan like that. He hadn’t been trained like Luther.

“How will Allison get to the control room?” Five questioned, and Ben recognised the test for what it was. 

“There’s not enough cover on the ground floor for her to sneak past. Number Two or Number One should help escort her. She’ll need a distraction of the ground floor.”

Something was wrong. Something was _horribly wrong._

“Such as?”

“Me.”

And all thoughts that had been pervading Ben’s mind came to a screeching halt, and the Horror lunged forward, over his siblings’ loudly voiced dissent.

“ _No!_ ” they growled, as both Ben and the Horror protested at once. Klaus was _theirs_. He wouldn’t be put in harm’s way for a mere distraction.

His siblings all instinctively backed away from him as Ben took a few seconds to wrangle the Horror back under control, breathing in and out slowly and clutching at his stomach. He glared at them all when the Horror had settled. “We’re not using Klaus as a distraction.”

“Of course we’re not,” Allison agreed, stepping closer again.

“Absolutely not,” Diego asserted. “Klaus, what the hell?”

But when they turned to face Klaus, their brother was already at the doors of the bank.

“ _Klaus!_ ” Ben shouted, immediately running forward.

But Klaus pushed open the doors and a blue light seemed to explode out of him. And Ben arrived at the doors just in time to see the ghosts come to life in a fearsome attack.

“What the fuck?” Diego breathed from beside him, and Ben was inclined to agree.

Klaus had _never_ come close to this degree of power before. Manifesting Ben at Icarus Theatre had been the greatest use of his powers he’d ever accomplished.

“No time to question this,” Five declared. “We’re following Klaus’ plan. Diego and Luther, you get Allison to the control room. I’ll watch out for Klaus. Vanya, help out where you can down here, but don’t strain yourself. We’re going to need you to help track down the stragglers. Everyone minimise casualties.”

Five hesitated when he got to Ben. “Klaus is right. We don’t need to be traumatising any hostages. Sit this one out.”

Ordinarily, Ben would be relieved at not having to join the fight. He hated blood and he hated killing and he hated being a monster. But this time? Ben had to be close-by. He _needed_ to be certain that Klaus’ powers wouldn’t suddenly fail him, leaving him vulnerable.

So, instead of ducking outside while his siblings scrambled to follow Five’s orders, Ben retreated to the entranceway, hiding behind a pillar to watch over his brother.

Klaus, as it seemed, didn’t need his concern. As Ben watched, many of the ghosts suddenly disappeared, sending a wave of fear through him, but Klaus wasn’t surprised. His brother rose into the air ( _since when could Klaus fucking fly?)_ and with a swipe of his hand, knocked several robbers back without even touching them.

Telekinesis. Because _what else_ had Ben failed to notice about his brother lately?

Objectively, Ben recognised that what Klaus was doing was amazing. He’d seen first-hand how much his brother had struggled with his powers, knew how horrible they were, forcing him into a living nightmare. And Klaus’ show of power now? Staggering.

The ghosts Klaus were manifesting tore through the robbers with a precision Ben would’ve thought impossible from such insane, depraved spirits. His brother knocked robbers of their feet with little more than a wave of his hand.

When Klaus had almost singlehandedly taken out most of the robbers on their floor and Allison’s rumour sounded over the loudspeaker, Ben felt safe enough to finally venture out from his hiding spot, keeping his eyes fixed on his brother, still floating in the air, emitting an eery blue light.

There was a flash beside him, and Five was there. “He’s incredible,” his brother stated matter-of-factly.

“I know.” A pause. “It scares you too.”

They were silent as the first of the robbers appeared, eyes glazed over from Allison’s rumour, dully trudging past them to surrender peacefully. They were followed by wide-eyed hostages, looking shaken and quickly stumbling to exit the museum.

Vanya joined them and Five diverted his attention, smiling at their sister.

“Okay, Van. Let’s see how many robbers you can find me.”

Vanya smiled and closed her eyes, breathing in deeply, frowning in concentration. Ben hesitated, every instinct screaming at him to _go to Klaus._

Five gripped his arm, shaking his head. “Let us track down the rest of the robbers first. Just in case. It’s an open area. Lots of vantage points.”

“There’s five on the roof,” Vanya stated, catching their attention. “And another two have just left them to see what’s happening down here, by the roof’s emergency access.”

Five smiled. “Nice job, sis.”

Five disappeared in a flash of blue light.

“There many others?” Ben asked anxiously.

Vanya frowned, eyes still closed. “It’s hard to say. Some are still making their way down to surrender, I think. It’s difficult to tell between their footsteps and people who haven’t been rumoured.”

“Maybe next time Allison can rumour them to like waltz on their way out,” Ben suggested, because he was still staring at his brother’s unmoving form and it was the type of ridiculous, yet somehow logical idea Klaus would suggest.

Vanya laughed and Five reappeared, covered in a significant amount of blood. Ben winced and Five caught it.

“Shut up,” Five muttered, readjusting his tie. “They’re all still alive.”

There was a moment of silence as they both remembered the bodies littering the room they were currently in, regarding them with trepidation. Five _had_ said to minimise casualties, but Klaus hadn’t been around to hear it.

“They’re still alive,” Vanya cut in, and Ben glanced at her in surprise. “I can still hear them breathing. At least most of them. Five, there’s three more coming down in the elevator.”

Vanya opened her eyes as Five disappeared again. “I think that’s it,” she said unsurely.

Ben wasted no time in wrapping her in a hug. “You did fantastic, Van.”

Five reappeared just as Diego, Allison and Luther arrived, and Ben made a beeline for Klaus.

“Klaus? You can come down now. It’s over. Five and Vanya rounded up the rest of them.”

For a moment, Ben was worried his brother couldn’t hear him. He wouldn’t, after all, if he was dealing with the screams of the dead, particularly after a show of power like that. But Klaus began to float downwards, touching down beside Ben.

Ben smiled at his brother, trying to ignore the dull expression on his face, and opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off as-

“ _No!_ ” Klaus shouted, violently sweeping his arm out, glaring at something behind Ben.

Ben spun just in time to see one of the robbers that Vanya must’ve missed go flying backwards, slamming into the wall. But the gunshot had already sounded, and Diego let out a grunt of pain, clasping a hand to his arm.

 _Good job_ , Ben was about to say, relaxing, because that could’ve been a thousand times worse if Klaus hadn’t spotted the robber. ~~Diego, or any of their siblings, could be bleeding out or dead~~. But he was cut off by Klaus’ reaction.

“ _Diego_ ,” Klaus breathed, pure horror underlying his tone. Ben caught a glimpse of his face before he stumbled toward their brother – Klaus looked like his entire world had come to an end. 

Klaus reached Diego, grabbing his good arm and pulling them toward the exit. “We- we need to go. Mom can-”

Ben stumbled after them to keep up, confused, Klaus’ actions doing nothing to diminish the growing sensation of dread pooling in his stomach.

“Klaus?” Diego tried. “Klaus! I know. It’s just a flesh wound. I’ll be fine.”

But Klaus was inconsolable. He didn’t rest until Diego was safely in the van, and seemed like he was about to drive if Luther hadn’t slid into the front seat first. Instead, Klaus curled up a corner seat, pulling his knees to his chest and watching Diego with frightened eyes. Ben sat as close as possible to Klaus, hoping to provide some comfort.

“He’s okay, Klaus,” Ben whispered. “It was just his arm. It could’ve been worse.”

Klaus didn’t seem to hear him, and Allison placed a reassuring hand on Ben’s shoulder. Thankfully, they arrived quickly, and Klaus blindly trailed after Diego into the infirmary.

Ben watched worriedly as Klaus settled himself in the corner of the room, resuming his previous position and staring blankly as Mom tended to Diego, guiding him to sit on the bed. Ben hated it. He hated the hollowness to Klaus’ expression and his uncharacteristic complete silence and the fact that he hadn’t picked up on it before.

“We’ll fix this,” Allison promised, laying a hand briefly on Ben’s arm before whisking Vanya upstairs, hopefully, to help her decompress after her first mission. Luther had disappeared too, probably to have a shower.

Ben turned to Five, who was still covered in blood. “Go have a shower,” he said reluctantly, because he would’ve preferred some back-up. “In your current state, Klaus might think you’re another ghost. I’ll see if I can talk to him.”

Five nodded shortly, shooting one last look at Klaus. “We’re discussing this tonight.”

Ben hummed in agreement before making his way over to Klaus. He sat beside his brother, who was eerily still in a way that was starkly un-Klaus-like.

_Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong._

“Hey Klaus,” he said quietly. “Are you alright?”

Klaus didn’t respond, staring intently at Diego. It was like someone had hollowed his brother out and left them with his shell.

“That was really amazing what you did at the museum,” Ben offered sincerely, hoping to mask how worried he was. “You were incredible.”

When Klaus didn’t respond, Ben pressed on, the dread only building inside him. “Are the ghosts really bad right now? Do you want me to go grab your headphones?”

Ben reached out to place a comforting hand on Klaus’ arm (a practised gesture, something he’d done countless times), but his brother flinched away in what seemed to be a subconscious movement.

That was too much for Ben. Klaus _never_ avoided physical affection. Especially after spending too much time with the dead, his brother _craved_ the human contact – something to ground himself to. Ben did too.

 _Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong,_ every part of him hummed. Even the Horror was beginning to react to Klaus, conveying a worried mess of _injuredhurtwhere?_ and _mustprotectmustdefend._

Ben clutched at his stomach, doubling over as the Horror twisted and convulsed uneasily under his skin. Oh God. _Not now_ , he thought desperately at the Horror. _Not now!_

But They weren’t mollified in the slightest. _MUSTPROTECTMUSTDEFENDBROTHER._

“Ben?” Diego called, and his gaze snapped up to meet his brother’s worried eyes. “You alright?” Diego was half-standing, even as Mom chastised him, tensed and ready to move. ( _To run away, where it’s safe?_ Ben wondered. _Or forward, to help Klaus?_ )

“Can you-?” Ben cut off as a particular jolt from the Horror pushed at his control, groaning. “Watch Klaus! I- I’ll be right back.”

Ben stumbled to his feet and darted out of the room, quickly locking himself in a nearby bathroom. With a whimper, he slid down the wall onto the floor, hugging his stomach tightly as pain rocked through him.

He didn’t have time for this.

 _That’s ENOUGH!_ Ben forcefully directed at the Eldritch, and the stirring under his skin paused.

 _Mustprotectmustdefend_ came the questioning response.

“I know,” Ben breathed out, pressing his forward to his knees. “God, I know. But this isn’t something we can fight away, and I can’t help him if you’re trying to burst out.”

_Brother._

Ben managed a shaky smile, because only _Klaus_ could manage to earn the affection of a monstrous Eldritch being. “Yeah. He’s our brother. He loves us and we love him. And we need to work together to help him, okay?”

Ben recognised the buzz of assent as the Horror began to settle down, halting its writhing and contorting, and instead curling up safely inside him.

“Thank you.”

Ben splashed some water on his face before exiting the bathroom, bracing himself to face Klaus again.

Except – when he entered the infirmary. Klaus wasn’t there.

Ben’s blood ran cold. “Klaus? Diego, where’s Klaus?”

Diego was breathing heavily, but glanced over at Ben’s words, surprised, then worried. “Shit, sorry Ben. He must’ve left while Mom was taking the bullet out.”

“ _Shit!”_ Ben strode out of the room. “ _FIVE!”_

Five appeared in an instant, hair tousled and wet, but wearing a clean shirt and pants. “What is it?”

“Klaus left the infirmary,” Ben informed him, his heartbeat racing. “Check upstairs. I’ll take downstairs.”

Five disappeared the moment he finished speaking, and Ben strode for the nearest door, pulling it open to check the room.

There was no way in hell Klaus being alone right now was a good idea. Ben didn’t know what was up with him or how long it had been going on for, but Klaus was undoubtedly in a bad place, mentally. Usually, it was Ben’s job to help him when he was like this. ~~Usually Ben noticed when he was like this.~~

“ _Fuck!_ ” he cursed when he reached the kitchen – the last room downstairs – and found it empty. Thankfully, the Horror was remaining dormant, but it was sending waves of unease and worry through Ben that only contributed to his own growing mix of fear and desperation.

“Any luck?” Diego was at the doorway, worry painted over his face.

Ben shook his head, running a hand through his hair frustratedly.

“Fuck.” Diego’s face fell, looking away guiltily. “Sorry, Ben. I messed up.”

“It’s not your fault,” Ben sighed, covering his face. “I can’t expect you to be able to pay attention while Mom’s digging a bullet out of your shoulder. Maybe he’s upstairs.”

“Diego? Ben? What’s happening?” Allison entered the kitchen, followed by Vanya and Luther.

“I called a family meeting,” Diego informed Ben before addressing the rest of their siblings. “It’s Klaus.”

Vanya nodded like that made sense, pulling out a chair to sit. “He’s acting strange.”

“How?” Luther frowned.

Ben rolled his eyes, because much as he loved his brother, God was Luther obtuse sometimes. But Ben forced some of the anxiety rolling through him down, because short of tracing in Five’s steps upstairs, there wasn’t anything he could do. (And Ben knew Five would be faster. Heartless and cynical as his brother pretended to be, there was no way he wasn’t teleporting through every room in the house right now, despite already being exhausted from their mission.)

“He’s really quiet,” Vanya pointed out. “I don’t know about you guys, but he hasn’t really spoken to me in weeks.”

Allison nodded. “Same here. I barely see him around the house anymore.”

Diego scowled. “Same. And did you see the way he reacted when I got shot? He freaked out, practically went catatonic.”

“He’s dressing weirdly,” Luther offered, and all eyes shot to him in surprise. “Doesn’t he usually wear make-up? And clothes that are more…”

“Klaus,” Vanya filled in when he trailed off.

Something inside Ben wanted to shout at them, wanted to scream at them all. Klaus was unaccounted for and they were here, casually discussing the abnormalities in his behaviour.

But that wasn’t fair. Klaus might just be hiding in the attic. Ben couldn’t confirm either way until Five had returned.

“He was able to make a pretty good plan earlier,” Diego pointed out. “I didn’t know Klaus knew strategy.”

“And he called us by our numbers,” Ben burst in, a ball of frustration and worry expanding in his chest. “He _never_ does that. Not since Mom gave us names.”

Luther frowned. “Did he? I didn’t notice.”

“That’s because your feeble mind only responds to authority,” Five cut in, stalking into the kitchen, “and the second Klaus started using numbers and a respectable vocabulary, you projected your daddy issues onto him.”

Allison wrinkled her nose. “Gross, Five.”

“He’s not upstairs,” Five informed Ben. “Not even the attic or the roof. But I did find this in his room.” Five dropped a thin red book onto the dining table.

Ben frowned as Vanya spoke uncertainly. “Isn’t that Dad’s?”

Diego snatched it up from the table before Ben could, flicking it open. “It is,” he confirmed. “The journal the old bastard recorded our childhood in.”

Ben grimaced, as flashes of his own training sessions – being forced to tear apart animals with the Horror while Reginald recorded everything in his journal – passed through his mind.

“There was also this,” Five provided, another item clattering onto the table.

“Dad’s stopwatch,” Allison identified, brow knitted in confusion. “Has Klaus been stealing Dad’s stuff?”

Ben frowned, because other than pawning them off for drug money or burning them out of spite, Klaus should have no interest in Reginald’s belongings.

“Why would he do that?” Vanya questioned, puzzled.

“Guys.” Diego was still reading through Reginald’s journal. “When did Klaus learn to manifest the ghosts? Or use telekinesis?”

“I didn’t think he knew how to manifest ghosts before Ben,” Allison replied, glancing at Ben. “And I’ve never seen the telekinesis before today.”

“Dad has notes on it,” Diego stated seriously, looking up at them. “He’s got logs on Klaus’ progress with manifesting ghosts and his telekinesis.”

Ben darted forward, snatching the journal from Diego. “That can’t be right. I never saw Klaus using his powers like that when we were kids.”

But Ben scanned the page where _Number Four initially was able to utilise his powers through concentration on his fears_ and _Number Four is now able to maintain corporeality for 10 minutes_ and _Number Four has demonstrated an ability to banish all unwelcome spirits._

Ben shook his head uncomprehendingly. “This doesn’t make sense.” Klaus didn’t know how to banish ghosts.

“It could’ve been before you died,” Luther offered quietly. “Klaus might not have told you everything back then.”

Ben shook his head again, dropping the journal on the table. “I- it doesn’t matter. We need to find Klaus. _Now._ ”

“Wait, Klaus is missing?” Allison demanded.

“He’s not anywhere in the house,” Five informed her. “I checked.”

Vanya was sitting up straight now, concerned. “I saw about ten minutes ago.”

“Did he say anything? Did you see where he went?” Ben questioned forcefully.

Vanya nodded. “I asked him where he was going. He said he was going training. I figured he was just going up to his room to practice, but if he’s not in the house...”

“Ben?” Diego gripped his shoulder tightly. “Think. Is there anywhere that Klaus would go for his training? When Dad used to take him away for individual training, where’d they go?”

And Ben felt his throat close up as the implications of Diego’s words sunk in.

Klaus wouldn’t… would he?

Ben _knew_ how much he’d hated the mausoleum. He remembered how Klaus would clamber into his bed in the middle of the night upon his return, cold and dirty and shivering as he pressed himself closely to Ben’s warmth.

(Ben hadn’t found out the truth of what Klaus’ training actually entailed until he died and witnessed it firsthand. He’d wished he’d killed their bastard of a father while he had the chance.)

Even through his adulthood, Klaus would have nightmares and flashbacks of the mausoleum. That place had been the _ruin_ of his brother.

“Ben.” Five’s tone was deadly serious. “We need a location.”

Ben exhaled shakily, before nodding. “I really hope I’m wrong, but we need to hurry in case I’m not.”

Ben darted out of the room, relieved to hear his siblings’ footsteps echoing after him. They piled into the van again and Ben gave Luther directions on where to drive.

It was only a few blocks away. But if Klaus really were in the mausoleum, he probably wouldn’t be in very good shape. Five had squandered his powers enough for the day that Ben wasn’t sure he trusted his brother teleporting Klaus safely to the Academy, and it would look suspicious for Luther to carry a body down the streets in broad daylight.

Ben was the first to tumble out of the van when it came to a stop, pushing past the cemetery gates and running straight for the mausoleum in the centre of the graveyard. The door’s lock didn’t budge when he pulled at it.

“Break it down, Luther,” he demanded without glancing back.

Luther stepped forward, breaking the lock easily and ripping the entire door right out of its frame. 

Ben’s heart stopped at the sight of a small figure curled up in the corner of the room, before he remembered how to move, dashing forward and dropping to his knees beside the body. Trembling, he reached out to turn the person over, but it only confirmed what he already knew. Despite the darkness, with the only source of light being blocked out by his siblings, Ben could tell. It was Klaus.

“Why would he come here?” Vanya whispered, her tremulous voice echoing against the cold stone walls of the mausoleum.

Ben pulled Klaus’s body toward him, shaking as he carefully hugged his brother closer. _Mustprotectmustdefendbrother_ the Horror communicated and Ben agreed. When he sensed movement – someone approaching him – his head snapped up and he growled, a deep inhuman sound from far within him.

It was Five, raising his hands to indicate that he meant no harm. “Ben, we need to get him home. He’s bleeding.”

For the first time, Ben noticed the blood staining his hands, an assortment of gashes and cuts that littered Klaus’ body. _When did they happen?_ None of the robbers had even gotten close to Klaus today.

Ben didn’t have time to ponder it, reluctantly relinquishing Klaus to Luther, who, for all his faults, took the utmost care in delicately cradling him to his chest before steadily exiting the mausoleum. Ben felt like crying when the sun hit Klaus, showcasing the already-forming bruises and jagged wounds decorating his limp form.

This time they were all silent on the ride back to the Academy. This time it was Klaus that was rushed to the infirmary, for Mom to immediately start fussing over. And this time it was Ben who watched unblinkingly as Mom cared for him, claiming the seat next to him and clasping his hand as Mum began to clean and dress his wounds.

In hindsight, Ben realised, the warning signs were all there.

Here’s when he should’ve noticed.

He should’ve noticed when Klaus had collapsed into a chair beside Five in the infirmary, looking entirely hollow and broken, refusing to leave for the rest of the night. He should’ve noticed how when he did leave, the first thing his brother did was lock himself in his room until late afternoon, only later to stumble downstairs, ghosts screaming in his ears. (Ben had tried. He’d let Klaus lock himself in his room under the hopes that he’d finally get some rest. And when his siblings later enquired about him, Ben told them that Klaus was having a Bad Day, and the ghosts wouldn’t leave him alone.)

He should’ve noticed when Klaus walked into their dumb movie night, only to see any trace of happiness leaving him as he realised his siblings had left him out. (Ben should’ve invited him. He knew that Klaus hated being around other people on Bad Days, but he should’ve at least given him a _choice_.)

And he should’ve noticed in the following weeks turned months, as Klaus secreted himself away in his room, only leaving for food and the bathroom.

Ben rested his head on the bed tiredly, and his eyes found the painting on the wall, one of many that decorated the Academy. Sir Reginald Hargreeves stared down at them from his frame, and it was almost as if no matter what, everything circled back to their bastard of a father, who’d been the one to first drag Klaus away in the middle of the night and leave him in that cursed mausoleum.

At that moment, Ben had never despised anyone more.

“Nobody leaves this room until we figure out what the hell’s going on with Klaus,” Five asserted in the silence of the infirmary, and nobody argued.

* * *

Klaus jolted awake to the phantom sensation of cold dead hands grabbing at him and clawing and him and tearing at him.

_Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, Klaus._

He doubled over, desperately heaving in air, digging his nails into his arms in an effort to rid the lingering feeling of ghosts ripping into him. “Dad?” he asked instinctively.

“Hey, Klaus, I need you to calm down.” Gentle hands _(warm, alive)_ were covering his, and pulling them away from his arms. “We can’t have you ruining your bandages.”

Klaus’ eyes locked onto the bandages swathing his arms in white. They were… stinging. He was in pain, Klaus realised distantly.

The ghosts hadn’t managed to kill him, that meant. Without Klaus to actively direct them, they lacked the precision for a quick and efficient death. (That wasn’t to say they hadn’t tried – they’d certainly made up for their effectiveness with enthusiasm.)

“Can you tell me where we are, Klaus?”

Klaus’ eyes trailed to the white bed he was sitting on, the stiffly clean sheets pulled gently over him and the sterile smell of chemicals and cleaning products. “Infirmary.”

“That’s right,” the voice Klaus registered as Ben confirmed. “No mausoleum. No dad. You’re alright. We got you out.”

We _got you out._

Awareness hit Klaus like a truck and he yanked his hands out of Ben’s grip, head shooting up to confirm the presence of all his siblings, arranged around the infirmary, all watching him.

Klaus shook his head vehemently, anxiety spiking. “You can’t be here.”

Ben tried to take his hands again, frowning when Klaus flinched away. “What? Klaus, it’s okay. It’s just us.”

Klaus’ eyes darted desperately around the room, finally _finally_ landing on Reginald, who was frowning at him from beside Luther. “I can’t be here,” Klaus reiterated.

“Your siblings broke the door to the mausoleum,” Reginald informed him instead. “That will need to be fixed.”

Klaus flinched but nodded. He could probably just ask Luther to fix it.

“Your performance in your individual training today was abysmal. I was only corporeal for five minutes. We will need to develop your ability to manifest ghosts while unconscious.”

Klaus nodded again desperately. Of course. _Anything._ But why was Reginald acting like this? Klaus was endangering his siblings. The longer he remained here, the more likely they were to get hurt. Unconsciously, his eyes slid to Diego, landing on the edge of a bandage poking out from under his sleeve, before his gaze snapped back to Reginald.

“I can’t be here,” he pleaded, ignoring Ben’s voice.

“Fine. Inform your siblings that you wish to continue recovering in your room.”

Klaus nodded before addressing his siblings. “I want to continue recovering in my room.”

“Absolutely not!” Diego protested.

“No, Klaus,” Allison voiced.

“Mom can look after you better here,” Ben insisted.

Klaus paused before echoing Reginald’s response. “I would feel more comfortable in my own room.”

“No.”

“This isn’t negotiable, Klaus.”

“Sorry, that’s not happening.”

Klaus glanced at Reginald again, only to be caught off-guard when Ben’s hand firmly grasped his shoulder, half-turning him toward him. “Klaus,” Ben stated, locking eyes with him. “Is there someone else here?”

Klaus faltered, and Ben continued, a bittersweet knowledge in his gaze. “I can recognise the signs, Klaus. You keep pausing before responding, like you’re listening to someone. You keep glancing at that spot next to Luther. There’s someone else here, isn’t there?”

Klaus’ eyes betrayed him, darting to Reginald before meeting Ben’s. “I- I… Ben-“

“Silence!” Reginald ordered and Klaus’ mouth snapped shut.

Five stalked forward. “Funny thing, Klaus. That didn’t look much like a flashback when you woke up. A nightmare, sure, but you seemed perfectly coherent to me.”

Unwillingly, Klaus met his eyes, slowly taking in the fury painted in his expression, but also the frustration in the way he dragged a hand through his hair. And lastly, the concern, so clear in his eyes. Concern for _him_ , Klaus realised with a start.

“Please,” Five’s voice was low and gentler than he’d ever been with Klaus, reaching out to grasp his hand. “I just need a yes or a no here, Klaus. Is Dad’s ghost here?”

Klaus registered the sound of his siblings murmuring anxiously, Ben’s grip tightening on his other hand, and Reginald commanding him not to respond. But looking into Five’s eyes, usually so closed off and distant, filled with worry for him, Klaus couldn’t lie.

He nodded.

Klaus kept his eyes locked on Five even as his siblings erupted in _holy shit_ s and _Jesus Christ, Klaus_ es and _oh God_ s. Five, who closed his eyes, taking a deep shuddering breath, like his worst fears had been imagined. He opened his eyes, staring at Klaus for only a moment before he spun and snatched a knife from Diego’s holster, hurling it across the room with a rage-filled scream. The knife hit the only painting in the infirmary with deadly accuracy, splitting their father’s stern face cleanly in half.

“Number Five!” Reginald admonished, scandalised.

Klaus couldn’t help it. He giggled, before immediately clapping a hand to his mouth.

Five glanced at him, then in Reginald’s vague direction, and back to Klaus, a self-satisfied smile on his face.

“Klaus,” Allison cut in seriously. “How long has Dad been with you?”

Any amusement faded quickly as Klaus once again tugged his hand from Ben’s. “If I tell you, can I leave?”

“Why do you keep asking that?” Vanya asked softly. She’d pulled her knees to her chest at the first mention of Reginald, and subconsciously pulled her sleeves over her hands, curling into herself.

Klaus looked down at his lap. “I can’t be near you guys,” he admitted. Maybe if they understood why, they’d leave him alone. They’d understand that it was safer this way. Better without Klaus.

“Did Dad tell you that?” Diego questioned, his hard tone causing Klaus to shrink into himself.

“It’s true,” Klaus murmured in defence.

“ _Bull-shit_ ,” Five challenged, emphasising each syllable. “Why then? What’s so important that you can’t be near us?”

Klaus opened his mouth to speak but was cut off.

“ _Silence!”_ Reginald barked. “I will not have you endangering your siblings by explaining the threat you pose.”

Klaus glanced at Reginald helplessly. “I can’t,” he offered.

“Bullshit,” Allison voiced, a burst of determination in her voice as she stepped forward. “Klaus, _I heard a rumour_ that you told-”

Klaus flinched back, hands slamming over his ears, but Allison was cut off when Five appeared next to her, clamping a hand over her mouth.

“What the hell, Five?” Luther protested, standing.

“I think,” Five began, his eyes flashing dangerously, “that I’ve had enough of people putting words in my brother’s mouth.”

Five removed his hand and Allison hesitated before nodding. “You’re right.” Her eyes met Klaus’. “I’m really sorry, Klaus.”

Ben grabbed his hand again, firmly, refusing to let go when Klaus tried to shake him off. “Klaus, you can banish ghosts now, right?” Klaus nodded. “Can you banish Dad?”

“Absolutely not!” Reginald ordered and Klaus shook his head vehemently in agreement.

“I- I can’t,” Klaus blathered. “I need him here. He’s teaching me to- to be better. I- I need him for my training or I won’t be able to get stronger-”

Ben cut off his babbling, placing his other hand on Klaus’ shoulder, dark eyes filled with worry. “Klaus. Please. Do you trust me?”

Klaus nodded without thinking. Of course he did.

“Do you trust me more than Dad?”

Oh. _Oh_. Klaus… didn’t know. He trusted Ben with his life, but not with his brother’s own. When it came to keeping himself and their siblings safe, Klaus wasn’t sure if Ben knew best. ~~Klaus didn’t know either. That’s why he had Reginald.~~

“Do you trust me more than Dad, Klaus?”

But still… Klaus thought of those nights after the mausoleum where he’d slip into Ben’s bed, seeking his warmth, a reminder that something other than the dead existed. He remembered sneaking out to Griddy’s with Ben and Diego in the middle of the night, when their training became suffocating. He remembered an infinitely patient brother sitting by his side in every rehab centre and attempt at getting clean, supportive and always wholehearted in his belief that Klaus would succeed.

“Yes,” Klaus whispered.

A soft smile came to Ben’s lips. “Then please, Klaus. Push Dad away, just for a little while. We’d like to talk to you without him.”

Klaus hesitated. “Just for a little while?”

“Just for a little while,” Ben promised, a strange sadness in his eyes that Klaus couldn’t explain.

“Okay,” Klaus agreed reluctantly even as Reginald protested that _this is unacceptable, Number Four_ and _you are endangering your siblings_ and _you truly are selfish._ He reached out with his mind, finding the tiny light that was his father. Carefully, he pushed it away, just out of reach, Reginald’s retorts fading quickly.

“Is he still here?” Luther asked hesitantly. “Can he hear us?”

Klaus shook his head. The consistent thrum of anxiety in his chest didn’t leave. (He couldn’t be here. He couldn’t be this close to his siblings. He wanted Reginald back.)

Ben let out a breath, some of the tension underlying his body fading away. “Okay. That’s much better, isn’t it, Klaus?”

Klaus couldn’t help the minuscule twitch of his head, instinctively beginning to shake his head before realising that wasn’t the response his siblings wanted. If the slight tightening of his smile was any indication, Ben had noticed his blunder.

His other siblings seemed to relax somewhat too, Vanya losing her defensive position, relaxing to sit cross-legged on her chair. Diego, who’d stood when Klaus had admitted to Reginald’s presence, fell back into his chair, and Allison uncrossed her arms, leaning back against the wall.

“Why don’t you think you can be near us?” Allison asked softly.

A jolt of fear ran through Klaus at the question, and he instinctively glanced toward where his father had been, only to realise he was gone (Klaus had sent him away). He… he couldn’t answer that question. Reginald had forbidden it.

“Dad won’t like it if I-” Klaus began, tugging nervously at his sleeves.

“Dad isn’t here right now,” Diego cut him off, though not unkindly. “And he won’t know.”

Klaus pulled at his sleeves more aggressively. Reginald would know. Klaus would have to tell him. Because Reginald would order him to.

Ben squeezed his hand, and Klaus acquiesced. “It’s dangerous,” he admitted. All he had to do was convince them of the danger and they’d leave. They’d understand. ~~And then Ben would stop holding his hand, warm and alive and proof that not everything was cold and dead.~~

“How?” Allison asked patiently.

“I’m not… strong, like you guys,” Klaus tried to explain, rushing to continue when he saw Diego opening his mouth to argue. “I’m not. And I’m no good in a fight. I’m a liability. I got Five hurt because I couldn’t control my powers. I need to keep you safe from me.”

“Jesus.” Five appeared in his face in a flash of blue, inches away, locking eyes forcefully. “Klaus, I _need you_ to _listen_ to me. You’re my brother. I would’ve done the same for any of the others in a heartbeat. I don’t regret it.”

“It was still my fault,” Klaus countered gently. “You wouldn’t have been hurt if it wasn’t for me.”

“So?” Five demanded, taking a step back to gesture aggressively. “We’ve all had worse injuries for far less. Remember when Luther broke my arm when we were eight because he couldn’t control his strength? Or when Ben first manifested his powers and knocked Diego and Allison into a wall? All of us had accidents when we first started learning our powers. And I’d sure as hell rather get hurt saving your idiotic ass during a fight than from you accidently manifesting some angry ghost. I don’t blame you. Klaus, you’re my brother and I love you, you idiot.”

Klaus blinked rapidly against the tears forming in his eyes. “You don’t blame me? You- you still love me?”

Five exhaled slowly, reaching out to place a hand on Klaus’ arm, squeezing gently. “I thought I’d gotten this through your head months ago, you idiot,” he chided, affection in his eyes even as his cheeks coloured. “Nobody blames you. _We_ love you.”

“But Dad said you blamed me,” Klaus protested uncertainly. “He heard you.”

“Dad lied,” Diego stated simply.

Klaus tugged at the hand still in Ben’s grasp again. “I should- I still need to stay away. I need to get stronger. Dad’s… he’s teaching me to be stronger. Then I won’t be putting you in danger. I’ll be able to protect you.”

“Klaus, we’re at the Academy,” Vanya rationalised. “There’s no danger here. You can relax.”

“And we saw you at the museum today,” Ben pointed out, a small proud smile on his face. “You were incredible. You _are_ strong Klaus. You made that mission a lot cleaner than it could’ve been and no deaths occurred.”

Klaus’ eyes gave him away again, sliding to the bandage on Diego’s arm. “I need to be stronger.”

“Diego?” Five accused. “You’re blaming yourself for Diego’s injury?”

“Klaus, you saved my life,” Diego said sincerely. “I saw it – you pushed the bullet off course. It was going to kill me.”

“I should’ve been quicker,” Klaus argued. “Or more powerful. I… my telekinesis… I haven’t practised moving stuff like bullets yet. I’ll do better.”

“Diego wasn’t your fault,” Five asserted.

“Jesus, Klaus,” Ben cut in, frowning worriedly. “Is this why…? Did Dad lock you in the mausoleum for that?”

Klaus winced. “I- I messed up. And Diego got hurt. So Dad thought I’d need more individual training…”

“F-F-Fuck K-Klaus.” Diego took a moment to breathe before his expression settled into a familiar glare. “Has that bastard been locking you in that mausoleum this whole time?”

Klaus quickly shook his head. “No, no. Since he came back, this was the first time.” He hesitated. “But I deserved it. I got you hurt.”

“If anything, it was my fault,” Vanya argued. “I didn’t detect him. It was my job to help find the stragglers.”

Klaus joined his siblings in their immediate dissent. “No, it wasn’t. You’re still learning how to use your powers.”

“So are you,” Vanya countered, raising an eyebrow. Klaus fell silent.

“Klaus, you don’t need to do better,” Ben reassured earnestly. “Your powers are already amazingly strong. You can stop now.”

Klaus hesitated and Allison came to his rescue. “I think that’s enough for today.” His sister was undeterred by the shocked and irritated looks their siblings sent her. “Klaus, we’ve given you a lot to think about. And I think it would be better if we all had some time to process what’s happened today and regroup tomorrow to discuss it properly.”

Ben nodded in agreement. “I think there’s still a lot more we need to discuss. But it’d be best if we took some time to figure out what that is.”

Some of their siblings seemed disgruntled but gave assent. Luther awkwardly looked at Klaus before leaving the room, and Allison followed, after offering Klaus a kind smile.

Diego approached him, briefly placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be just down the hallway if you need anything.”

Klaus nodded and Diego left too.

Vanya stood, stretching briefly before closing the few metres between them. “Is there anything I can get for you before I go?” she offered, smiling hesitantly. “A glass of water?”

Klaus shook his head. “No, thank you.” He turned to Five and Ben. “Can I bring Dad back now?”

Five grimaced but nodded, and it took barely a thought for Reginald to appear beside them once again. Klaus tensed automatically as Reginald appraised their surroundings and then finally Klaus, looking him over with a cold fury.

“The mausoleum door will need to be fixed,” he stated finally, an unsubtle promise.

Klaus swallowed thickly and nodded.

“What does he want?” Five questioned.

“The mausoleum door needs to be fixed,” Klaus murmured, wincing, unable to stop his hands trembling at the reminder of just earlier that day. “Do you think you or Luther could…?”

Five opened his mouth to speak, anger flashing in his eyes, but Vanya placed a hand on his arm, halting him. “I’ve got this.” She addressed Klaus, “I’ll go there myself.” She hesitated, a sudden glint in her eyes. “However, I know you understand, Klaus, that I haven’t completely mastered my powers. If I _accidentally_ knocked down the mausoleum while trying to fix the door, I’m sure you wouldn’t blame me.”

“Number Seven!” Reginald objected, appalled, while Five smirked at her, clear approval in his eyes.

Klaus couldn’t help letting out a wet laugh, covering his mouth with a shaky hand. “Dad doesn’t like the sound of that.”

“Good,” Vanya stated determinedly, dropping a kiss on Klaus’ cheek before leaving, confidence in her step.

* * *

“You went against my direct orders.”

“Sorry, sir.”

“You have placed your siblings in even more danger.”

The apology was already on Klaus’ tongue before he hesitated, his mind flashing to the reassurances his siblings had given. That he wasn’t dangerous. That he was strong. (“Incredible”, Ben had called him.)

“Number Four!” Reginald snapped at his hesitation. “Manifest me at once!”

It was almost instinctive to obey, his powers responding before Klaus could even process the command. Then Reginald was reaching back and Klaus was flinching away and a sharp pain was exploding in his nose.

Klaus barely had time to register the thick blood flowing from his nose before there was a yell and a dark blur tackled Reginald to the ground, immediately throwing punches. In surprise, Klaus let go of his hold on Reginald’s ghost and there was a grunt as his brother fell to the ground. Reginald stood, looking down at him with disgust before turning away. (There was a crack in his monocle.)

“B- _Bastard_ ,” Diego hissed, climbing to his feet. Klaus watched him worriedly through teary eyes. Diego took one look at him and stalked to the counter to grab a box of tissues. Shakily, Diego began to wipe away the blood on his face, while Klaus held a tissue to his still bleeding nose.

“That asshole’s been hitting you too?” Diego questioned, once he seemed to have his emotions under control again.

Klaus just nodded. There was no point in hiding it.

“You know you don’t have to manifest him.”

Klaus stared at his lap. “Things tend to go wrong when I don’t listen to him.”

“Sorry if I don’t believe you.”

Klaus looked at Diego in surprise. His brother scowled. “Hargreeves’ has been poisoning you against us for months, Klaus. He’s been lying about us. Sorry if I think your judgement where he’s concerned isn’t to be trusted.”

Klaus remained silent before the sound of a lock clicking open suddenly reminded him that Ben had just gone to the bathroom. He looked up just in time to see the door slide open and Ben step forward before his eyes locked onto Klaus. Klaus, who was covered in blood, his nose still bleeding. The grimace that immediately contorted Ben’s face was the only warning they got before large tentacles exploded out of his stomach.

“ _Shit_ Ben!” Diego shouted, stepping in front of Klaus.

But the Eldritch was undeterred, a tentacle batting Diego into a wall. Klaus flinched, throwing up his arms to cover his face and squeezing his eyes shut, but-

No pain appeared. He was alive. And uninjured.

Hesitantly, Klaus lowered his arms, opening his eyes to see the tentacles still steadily creeping forward. But there was none of the violence and aggression Klaus had come to associate with Ben’s tentacled friend. He tensed as the first tentacle reached him, but it slipped around him, a solid warmth encircling him. Others followed, wrapping around Klaus gently and pulling him forward.

Klaus glanced uncertainly at Ben as he was brought closer. His brother’s face was drawn tightly and his usually dark eyes were ringed in gold. There was something unnatural about the intensity in which his eyes were fixed on Klaus.

“Benny?” Klaus asked uncertainly.

“ _Hurt_ ,” Ben grunted, and there was a distinct snarl underlying his normal voice, speaking with him.

 _Oh_ , Klaus realised simply. He smiled softly, patting at the tentacle wrapped around his shoulders. “I’m okay, Georgy.”

“ _Defend_ ,” Ben and the Eldritch spoke at the same time, a low growl.

Klaus hummed in appreciation, stroking a hand over the tentacle. “Of course. You did a great job. But Diego didn’t hurt me. Would you mind letting him leave?”

~~There was something easier about talking to the Eldritch. It was an unwilling monster to match his own.~~

The tentacles surrounding Diego retreated and he watched Klaus and Ben cautiously, palming a knife. “You got this, Klaus?”

Klaus nodded and Diego reluctantly left.

“Just us now,” Klaus murmured. “We’re alright, aren’t we, buddy?”

The tentacle wrapped around his left arm tightened briefly in a gesture of reassurance that was similar to Ben squeezing his hand only a few minutes ago. Klaus was glad that his nose had finally stopped bleeding as he kept a hand gently running back and forth over a tentacle and reached out to cup Ben’s face with his other.

“We’re alright,” Klaus reassured them both.

Slowly, the tentacles began to retreat, unravelling from Klaus and sinking back into Ben. Klaus kept his hand against Ben’s cheek affectionately as his feet were finally allowed to touch the ground.

“Come back to me, Ben.”

The last thick tentacle unwrapped itself from Klaus back and he brushed a hand over it as it retreated. “Bye Michael.”

Ben regained himself slowly, the ring of gold around his eyes fading as he blinked and refocused on Klaus.

“Sorry,” he murmured, still blinking rapidly as he tried to orient himself.

Klaus guided Ben to sit on the bed, wrapping him in a hug. “It’s fine. They didn’t hurt me.”

Ben smiled shakily, leaning into him. “They _are_ really fond of you.” There was a long silence like Ben had expected him to respond, before his brother spoke again. “You know, because everyone likes you. It’s your sparkling personality.”

Klaus couldn’t find the right words to express his gratitude and contentment, and instead hugged his brother closer, trying to ignore Reginald standing by the window.

“Diego said he lied,” Klaus said a few minutes later.

“What?”

“Diego said Dad lied,” Klaus explained, looking at Ben. “That doesn’t make sense. Dad doesn’t lie.”

Because he didn’t. Reginald reduced Vanya to ordinariness before telling her she was such. He told Five that time travel was too unpredictable to attempt and it was. He told Luther to watch for threats on the moon, neglecting to mention that there were none. ~~He told Klaus that it was for his own good before leaving him in a mausoleum filled with rotting, angry corpses overnight.~~

Ben sighed, hugging him closer. “It’s hard to explain to you, Klaus. You’ve never been a ghost.” Ben trailed off but Klaus waited expectantly.

“Ghosts all want something,” Ben offered after a moment. “You’ve seen this. They latch onto something and obsess over it until it drives them insane. You’re this beacon in a sea of darkness, Klaus. Ghosts can’t help but be pulled in by your light. They obsess over this one thing and you’re the only one who can help them to achieve it. They’ll do anything to stay near you.”

“You weren’t like that,” Klaus contested softly.

Ben sighed again before smiling at him, warm and sincere and kind. “I wanted you safe. More than anything else. And yeah, that meant nagging you about getting clean and not poisoning your body. But it also meant being there for you. Being an option for you to confide in. And that meant staying sane.”

“Dad…” Ben began. “Whatever’s left of him is just a ghost. He doesn’t care about lying anymore. Everything for him is centred around you.”

Klaus gazed at Reginald, who was currently staring off into the distance, and finally _saw_ him. This was just a remnant of what his father had been, really. The spirit had been fading for a while now. It still held his father’s intelligence, though dulled, and his behaviours, but the careful restraint Reginald had defined himself by was gone.

His father’s ghost seemed to jolt, remembering himself and turning to Klaus. “Number Four! You should be training.”

“And you should be dead,” Klaus admitted thoughtfully. “I’m the only thing keeping you here.”

Klaus disrupted the natural order of the world. He’d always known that. Just not perhaps realised the degree of this truth.

Klaus closed his eyes, reaching for the spectre of light that was his father’s ghost. It was so feeble, really, flickering in and out. Klaus grasped it firmly with his mind, allowing its hatred and anger and grief to wash over him briefly before he snuffed the light out.

He opened his eyes and Reginald’s spirit was gone. “Back to hell with you,” Klaus murmured, the ghost of a smile dancing across his lips. 

“He gone?” Ben asked, resting his head on Klaus’ shoulder. Klaus nodded and could hear the smile in his brother’s voice when he spoke next. “Good. Now the rest of our siblings are waiting downstairs. We’re thinking a movie night, slumber party in the living room.”

Klaus laughed shakily. “Dad would hate that.”

“It’s a good thing he’s not here then.”

Later that night, when the television had finally been turned off and only a few lamps were on, Klaus kept watch over the slumbering forms of his siblings. Luther’s loud snores filled the room, but Klaus’ life was quiet in a way it hadn’t been in a while.

“Klaus?” Vanya scooted closer to him, pulling her blanket with her. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Need to make sure you’re safe,” Klaus whispered back, his words sounding slightly less foolish in the comfort of the night.

Vanya yawned and nodded, settling closer to him. “Okay. We’ll keep first watch. I’ll wake Five in an hour and maybe you’ll feel like sleeping then.”

Warmth filled Klaus’ chest at his sister’s kind and patient nature. He didn’t deserve her, but he was grateful he had her.

Vanya procured a small bottle of nail polish from somewhere and flashed it at Klaus. “Wanna talk girls?”

Tears filled Klaus’ eyes. “Fuck yes.”

Vanya smiled at him as he shuffled out of Ben’s grasp, adjusting himself so he could lay side-by-side with his little sister.

“I missed you, Klaus,” Vanya whispered, gently squeezing his hand.

“I missed you too, Van.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's obviously going to be a long healing process for Klaus, but that's the final part of this story. 
> 
> Thank you so, so much to everyone who has left kudos, bookmarked, subscribed and especially left comments. I can't express how happy you've made me. 
> 
> I do plan on writing more TUA fics in the future, but my exam period is just about to start, so it won't be too soon. Hope you all enjoyed!


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